


Lost & Sold

by MalevolentReverie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Breeding Kink, Darkfic, Doggy Style, Dominant Kylo Ren, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Gaslighting, Green Card Marriage, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Knotting, Marriage of Convenience, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Omega Rey (Star Wars), POV First Person, POV Rey (Star Wars), Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Rey does not commit suicide, Sex in Ch. 12 ur welcome, Sexism, Size Kink, Southern Ben, This Is Not Going To End Well For Rey, Vaginal Fingering, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Rey is ten days from her work visa expiring. Her boss, Leia, happens to have a single son who’s more than happy to help.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1579
Kudos: 2981





	1. don’t hurt me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissAllyKay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAllyKay/gifts), [CaraRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraRose/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Lost & Sold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923401) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)



> this is from a couple people: Cara & Allyson primarily!!! 
> 
> this is based on “give up the ghost” by Radiohead
> 
> also I have a very flimsy working knowledge of immigration and did some research but it might not be 100% accurate

Ten days before my visa is due to renew, I realize I’m fucking screwed.

It’s an unmitigated disaster—the thought of overstaying my six month work visa in a country chomping at the bit to deport whoever they can find is a nightmare. Someone will find me and I’ll be deported and banned from entering the United States again for anywhere from three to ten _years_.

I stare at the friendly immigration website on my phone and the voices around me in the coffee shop melt into senseless din. I applied for an extension forty five days before just like they said to. Now they’re saying I never did.

 _Fuck_. Holy shit. I can’t go back home to the U.K.; they don’t have the same kind of work placement programs for Omegas that the U.S. has. I’ll go back to public assistance and being coddled for my ‘condition’ and _that_ is a fucking nightmare. I can’t go back.

Heart pounding, I run a hand through my hair and lean back in my chair. Okay, Rey. Think.

When in doubt, call Leia.

She picks up on the second ring. “Hello dear. Listen, Melody had to leave the shop early so if you’d like to come in for a few hours—”

“My visa is expiring,” I blurt. I cover my mouth, already tearing up. Fuck.

“Exp—how is it expiring? Didn’t you send in the forms almost two months ago?”

I nod and burst into tears in the middle of the coffee shop. A couple people glance my way but no one pays much attention, turning back to their coffees and pastries on my second sob. I’m _terrified_. I can’t go back home. It’s easier there, but it’s like a prison.

Leia tries her best to soothe me. She tells me to swing by the gift shop so we can talk, but I’m not sure what can be done. I can overstay my visa, sure—but if I’m caught, I’m in serious trouble.

In a minute I gather my sweater and bag and head out into the cool spring afternoon. I’m only a short walk away from the store, Organa Gifts, where I work with a handful of other Omegas Leia took in from government programs and visas. She’s amazing. She’s like the mother I never had and I can’t imagine leaving her and going back to the U.K.

There isn’t anything waiting for me: no friends, no family. Here I have a chance to _be_ something. There are no public social programs to ‘protect’ Omegas. No safety nets. All the government intervention is designed to get us in the work force in one way or another, even if it’s risky, and that’s all I want.

It takes me ten minutes to walk through the quiet streets of Bennington to the shop. The bell chimes softly over the door and I pass a woman walking out, squeezing between two tight shelves in my search for Leia. She could be anywhere. The place is like a maze, chock full of random stuff—

Leia is standing up front near the cash register and opens her arms when she sees me, pouting her lower lip. As always she’s wearing a pretty sweater and jeans and looks every bit like the mom I’ve always wanted. I burst into tears all over again and run into her embrace.

“I know, honey,” she murmurs. She squeezes and sighs. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

How? I cry and nod and hug her, beside myself. I don’t know how. They’ll find me and I’ll be deported back to the life I’ve never wanted.

—•—

It takes a while for me to calm down. Leia brings me back to her small house outside town, one of those old cottages from the eighteenth century that’s all stone and old wood. It’s cute. I visit on weekends.

But today isn’t a social visit: it’s a fucking crisis.

“So you have ten days left, then?”

We’re sitting in her living room drinking tea, watching the flames crackling in her fireplace. Her furniture is worn antiques from the dozens of shops around Bennington, muted colors and fabrics, and I think it’s what a real home probably feels like.

I nod, shivering under my blanket. “Yes. And I can’t apply after it expires or they can still deport me.”

“Hm.” Leia nods and gazes into the fire, drumming her French manicure on her mug. She’s leaned back in her favorite green chair and I’m curled up on the couch, sniffling pitifully. “And there’s no time to apply for the extension again?”

“No. It won’t even be processed in time.”

“Of course,” she mutters. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Any excuse to send you poor kids back to those _prisons_ in Europe. I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. I remember watching you mail the forms, but they’re so damn inflexible.”

I nod, lower lip quivering. That’s it. If Leia can’t think of a way out, I’m screwed.

“…There is _one_ way you could stay.”

Firelight dances across the carpet and up to Leia’s soft eyes. She nods to me, raising her eyebrows, then winces. I shift forward and the blanket falls away.

“What?” I press. “How?”

“Well… the obvious. Green card.”

“But—But you have to get married for a green card.” I blink. “Are you saying we should get married?”

Leia bursts out laughing, spitting some of her tea back into her mug. I huff and flop over, irritated.

“Oh, honey, _no_. No.” She coughs and collects herself, still laughing. “My son, Ben? He’s single.”

Ben? I frown, turning to look at her over the arm of the couch. She’s mentioned him once or twice but not much, and says he lives somewhere down south. Alabama? Some bumfuck state I have no interest in seeing. The weird part of America.

But if he’s single—I mean, that’s a fast solution to my problem. Green cards mean permanent residence and I _can’t_ be deported, not unless someone figures out it’s a green card marriage. With a little rehearsal…

I sit up again, hope blooming in my chest. “Do you think he would agree to it? Just for a year. Just to get them off my trail.”

“I think so,” Leia says, tapping her mug. “He’s a sweet boy like his father. Older than you: he’s in his early thirties, but I suppose it doesn’t matter much if you won’t be married forever.” She puckers her lips and nods. “Let me give him a call and see.”

“Really?! Right now? Can you call him now?” I look around for her clock and scramble to my feet. “Is he in a different time zone?”

“Same time zone, honey. He’s south, not west. Sit and drink your tea—I’ll give him a call.”

Heart racing, I plop back on the couch. Leia smiles as she gets up and takes out her phone, then she disappears upstairs just as I hear her greet someone on the other end. Holy shit. She has a son who can marry me and help me stay where I am.

I won’t lose my benefits, either: I can keep working, even if it’s not for Leia for the time being. She owns a handful of shops, though. Maybe she has one in the south? That would be _amazing,_ since Omegas can only work in certain places with supervision.

After one year of working I’m eligible for a placement program, and I already have six months invested. Then I’ll have the same rights as everyone else: voting, owning my own property, my own _car._ Omegas aren’t allowed those things in a lot of other countries and I’m so close. I’m almost to the finish line; almost free of the nanny state.

It’s perfect. _Perfect._

Leia is gone for maybe fifteen minutes before she comes back downstairs. She’s smiling and I shriek when she nods, then I’m practically jumping on her and she’s laughing and hugging me.

“He said we can come down tomorrow, so you need to get home and pack.” She holds me at arm’s length, beaming. “My two babies getting married! Such a bizarre thing for a mother to be happy about.”

It’s all happening so fast that I can hardly believe it. I don’t care what he looks like or what he’s like at all, since I’m sure it’s just going to be a temporary thing until the government isn’t watching us. Maybe a year? Then divorce should be safe.

I’m safe. That’s all that matters.

…But one other thing.

I hold Leia’s hands, hesitant, but I have to ask. It’s kind of a big deal.

“Is he…” I cringe. “An Alpha?”

She is, and while Leia isn’t like a traditional Alpha, I can’t risk being alone with or married to one. It could end very badly. Very. Badly.

She shakes her head, smiling. “Beta, like his dad. You’ll be safe with him.”

“Oh, good. I mean… not that I have anything against Alphas, but…”

“I know, dear. Don’t you worry—Ben will take very good care of you. Now let’s get going!”

We get our things and head out into the cool night, chatting avidly about the flight and what Ben is like and the weather down south. I’m so excited and relieved that I don’t give much thought to anything except signing the marriage certificate and being secure where I am.

The rest will follow. It will all be okay if that’s what Leia says.

—•—

“So… you’re moving?”

Back home I’m halfway done packing, throwing in essentials and whatever else I’ll need for the next handful of weeks. I’ll visit after my ‘honeymoon’ and once I’m settled in my new house.

Rose, my roommate and another Omega, is lounging on my bed watching. She throws me a sock from the floor and goes back to frowning while I hurriedly pile my clothes in the old suitcase Leia loaned me. Have to hurry. Our flight is in a couple hours and I don’t want to be late for it.

“For now, yes.” I shrug, tipping back to my dresser in search of more panties. “I mean I can’t live separately from my husband, right? Suspicious.”

“Yeah… I guess.” She curls her hair behind her ear and sighs. “I’ll be bored without you here. Have you even met him? Is he nice?”

I slam the drawer shut. “If he isn’t, I can always tattle on him to his mother.”

We laugh. Rose helps me finish packing just enough to get me through the first couple weeks. I’ll grab more things when I’m home to visit: right now it’s just important to get there and get the paperwork signed.

Our small apartment we share together a couple blocks from Organa Gifts feels sadder with some of my stuff gone. Rose came with me from the same round of visas and she’s like a sister, so leaving her _really_ sucks. Our apartment was even assigned at the same time and sponsored by Leia.

We live together, eat together, work together. Maybe she can move to Alabama with me.

I shuffle through our mismatched furniture to the front door, dragging my suitcase. Rose pads after me in her bunny slippers I got for her birthday.

“Leia will help with the rent,” I remind her. “So you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be home in July for a visit for a week.”

She folds her arms and leans on the wall, rolling her eyes. I reach up and snatch a framed picture of us to take along with me.

“Well… be safe,” Rose says. She chews her lower lip. “Remember to take your meds, and don’t talk to any weirdos on the street. Even Betas are into Omegas down there. Bunch of weirdos.”

“I’ll be fine! Leia says Ben used to be a Marine. He can fight my battles for me.”

We hug. I’m so excited and in such a rush that I don’t cry until I get outside, and I run back upstairs to hug Rose one more time. I hate to leave her. It’s hard being alone in such a big country.

She buries her face in my neck. “Please be careful.”

I do the same, shamelessly smelling the familiar soft flowery scent emanating from her mating gland. It’s so comforting. I’m going to miss it.

“ _You_ be careful,” I mumble. “Don’t go out alone, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I give Rose a quick kiss on the cheek and then I’m off. Leia is waiting outside in her Lexus and helps me get my bag in the trunk, then we’re really going, heading straight for the airport. Straight to my new home.

—•—

Our flight goes off without a hitch.

I can hardly believe my luck; this whirlwind is going to end with a green card and security. Leia calls Ben when we land in Birmingham, apparently the biggest city in Alabama, and he tells her he’s already waiting for us. Freedom is close by.

Our suitcases roll through the terminal toward the parking lot. A quick thrill passes through me as I take long strides to keep up with Leia: I’m getting _married._ It wasn’t in the plan at twenty-two but at least I know Ben will be good to me and we can end things amicably. No mess. It’ll be easy.

I know it will. I trust Leia with my life and I’ve never had a reason to doubt her. Now I never have to leave her, either. I can keep working at Organa Gifts for as long as I want, buy my own house, get a car—

“Rey! There he is!”

My eyes sweep up from the floor to a man waiting near the chairs along the exit hall. He’s standing and turns when Leia calls ‘Ben!’, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised. He’s tall and broad and honestly, kind of attractive, even under the harsh fluorescents.

He breaks into a smile when he sees his mother and she bustles over time hug him. Ben lifts her clear off the ground and does a little spin, making her hiss at him to cut it out, and I pause a couple steps away, hiding a smile behind my hand. Aw. It’s sweet that he’s so happy to see her.

Dressed nice: jeans with some dirt on them, a blue plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, collar open far enough that I can see some of his chest. His hair is black and tied in a messy bun, some of it still draping down past his ears like he wants to hide them.

Leia slaps at his forearms as he sets her down. “Ass! I’m your mother, not a ragdoll!”

“Aw, c’mon, mama,” he drawls, voice deep, accent thick. “It’s been a year since I saw you last.”

“Yes, well…” Leia smooths her shirt and looks at me over her shoulder. “Rey, honey. Come.”

Ben’s dark eyes flicker to me as his mother motions that I should approach. His gaze wanders down once and back up before he breaks into another wide smile, accentuating dimples at the curve of his mouth. Single, huh? He’s got to be crazy or something.

I roll over with my suitcase and smile, offering my hand for a shake. “Hi. I’m Rey.”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. Before I can blink, Ben has his huge arms around me and it’s my turn to be lifted off the floor, whirling around like a ragdoll. That’s the only way to explain it. He’s strong and I can’t possibly escape his embrace, squeezed against a broad, warm chest by his thick arms.

He sets me to my feet and I feel his lips at my ear. He smells foreign, like cigarettes and spicy cologne.

“Married people don’t shake hands, kitten,” Ben murmurs. He kisses my cheek. “It’s very nice to meet you. Mama didn’t tell me how beautiful you are.”

Oof. My face heats up.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Sorry.” I hesitate, flustered by his arms around me. “Thanks for the help.”

“‘Course. I don’t mind pretendin’ to marry a beautiful girl.”

He withdraws, and I notice his jaw moving like he’s chewing gum. I nod and clear my throat as Leia snaps her fingers at him.

“Let’s get going, please,” she says. “I’m exhausted and you two kids need to talk before we get things rolling. Rey has to adjust her status and the immigration officer may come to do interviews—lots to be done and no time to do it.”

Ben obediently collects his mother’s things and takes mine, too. He smiles and pauses when he sees the steel registration bracelet on my wrist, a surefire way for the government to keep tabs on me at all times.

He brushes the metal with his thumb. It isn’t anything fancy: **NIIREY08021997Ω** **♀**. Alphas don’t wear them, since there are so many of them. Omegas need _protecting_ because they’re nearly extinct, which translates to being tracked. Constantly.

I cough. “Guess they’ll have to give me a new one.”

“Nah. Easier if you keep the same last name.” Ben taps the bracelet before he grabs my suitcase. I notice a tattoo peeking out from his sleeve. “But we can talk when we get home, kitten. You ready?”

“Yes—Yeah. Yes.”

His smile widens and he laughs. I blush harder and hurry out the sliding doors after Leia, heart fluttering. Well… at least Ben seems nice.


	2. gather up the lost and sold

We drive down long cracked roads through old forests and abandoned farms until we reach Ben’s house. It’s a big old farmhouse like the others we’ve passed, white siding and blue shutters with window boxes that he keeps filled with tulips. A big porch wraps around the front and for a second I wonder if I’m in one of those Hallmark movies.

He parks his truck near the porch and hops out to get the bags from the bed. Leia takes my arm when we step out and she squints up at the house, puckering her lips. It looks like he recently redid the siding and the roof is made of metal—it’s a beautiful house.

“Did you paint, Ben?” Leia calls over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Siding was peeling bad in the back so I just painted the whole thing.”

She nods, clicking her tongue, and leans closer to me. “I told him not to buy this place but he insisted. Good to see he’s done some work. It looked haunted before.”

“Must be old,” I add.

“Yes, built during the Civil War. Probably used to be part of a plantation but I think the property was split up? House down the road looks like it was built by the same set of hands.”

Hm. Old South, then. I’ve always wanted to see these bits of history. Ben joins us and we head inside.

The floors are worn dark wood but clearly cared for. They creak under our feet as we step into the foyer, looking straight ahead to a staircase leading up to the second floor lined with framed family pictures and a couple pretty paintings of flowers. It’s nice. Simple. The walls are all painted soft beige, even and clean.

“Did you redecorate, dear?” Leia asks as Ben sets our bags near the stairs. She must not visit often.

He nods, setting his hands on his hips and peering into the living room. I see a black tattoo under the collar of his flannel.

“Yeah, after I got back. Didn’t have a lot to do, so…” He rubs his nose and points up. “Fixin’ this and working construction with Dameron has kept me busy. Electrical needs work next.”

“Did you clean one of the guest rooms for Rey?” Leia asks, a little sharp.

“ _Yes_ , mama, I did. Have to get furniture but figured we could go do that today.”

“Great, that will give you two a chance to chat. They’ll be sure to send an immigration officer when Rey applies to change her status.” Leia peers into the kitchen. “This needs some work out here.”

We begin a grand tour of the house. Parts of it do need some work but aren’t uninhabitable: the kitchen has open spots in the ceiling where Ben is rewiring and he has the oven pulled out from the wall. Upstairs, the third bedroom needs plaster and is full of paint and plumbing supplies and other construction miscellany. It’s messy, but in progress.

Ben opens a white door down the hall from his bedroom: my room, empty except for a light brown dresser missing a couple handles. Leia hassles him about it, and the chipped paint on the walls, but I don’t mind. I can paint. He’s doing me a _huge_ favor.

My bedroom window is open halfway, letting in a gentle breeze that teases the curtains. I lean out and squint across the trees, closing my eyes, inhaling deep. It’s quiet here.

“It takes three years to get a green card. She’ll become a permanent resident as soon as you’re married but the green card application takes a while. You’re sure you can commit to that, Ben?”

I look over my shoulder. Ben has his hands on his hips and is nodding along, watching me.

“Yeah, I can.” He rubs the back of his neck and glances down at his mother. “What’s jail time like for this, anyway? Federal prison?”

“Bah, you’ll be fine. Just don’t go getting _around_ …” Leia raises her eyebrows, reaching out to fix his collar. He runs his tongue inside his cheek. “And no one will suspect a thing. Rey can go back to work and—”

“Back to work?” I interrupt.

She nods, eyeing her son’s shirt with thinly-veiled distaste. “It’s better if you refrain while you’re down here, honey. Working Omegas aren’t really accepted this way quite yet. But you’re welcome to come to the store when you’re home visiting.”

Not… work? I’m supposed to stay home the entire three years? That kind of sucks.

Well—the house needs work, so maybe I can help Ben to repay him. I’m going to visit Rose as often as I can, hopefully at least once a month. I won’t be around enough for a full time job as it is.

We go back downstairs to collect my suitcase, then back out we go to find furniture.

—•—

Leia hops out of the truck before Ben and me when we get to Sears. He whistles when I go to open my door and I turn to him offering me a small black box. Oh. Right. We’re getting married.

I blush up to my ears. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“Married women wear rings, kitten.” He flicks the box open with his thumb, smiling. “‘Specially in the South.”

The ring is simple gold with a sparkly diamond. It fits, oddly enough, and I mumble a thank you. Ben snaps the case shut and opens his glove box.

“Anyone sees your registration bracelet, there’ll be talk,” he says. He rummages and offers me a red flannel that looks way too big. “This should hide it, but keep your hands down so it doesn’t accidentally catch the light.”

“But… I don’t understand.”

“Omegas aren’t supposed to be out and exposed if they ain’t married or mated. It’s not proper.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous.”

He bursts out laughing and nods. “Welcome to the South. We’re about two decades behind y’all up North.”

Hmph. That sucks.

I mutter another thank you and put on the flannel over my T-shirt. It’s hot but I don’t have much of a choice if I don’t want to attract unwanted attention. Ben and I need to lay low if we want to get away with this whole thing.

We get out and head into Sears. Leia takes the reins like she usually does and leads us around the furniture department, picking out matching things and not asking for input. It’s fine with me. I wander a couple steps behind and nod along when she suggests a bed and a nightstand. I’m not going to complain about the color of the free things she’s buying me.

How will this affect my place in the Omega work program? Will I still be eligible for full citizenship after I get my green card, or will I be forever relegated to staying home and learning how to make a warm nest and nurse babies? Do they have mandatory education here like back in Europe?

“You okay, Rey?”

Ben is watching me, head tilted. I realize I’m letting my anxiety show and nod quickly, clearing my throat.

“Just… nervous,” I admit. “Not—not because of you.” Shit. I redden. “None of that. Just the work program.”

“Huh. Not sure.” He shrugs, scratching his jaw. “I know the couple of Omegas I’ve met had to go to classes until they got married or mated, but no one ‘round here does the work program. I think the green card should cover that stuff.”

Right. Right. When I’m a citizen, even if it’s not through the work program, I should have my full breadth of rights. But I’ve learned that every country makes it complicated and difficult for Omegas to get basic things like the right to vote and would much prefer us staying safe in birthing classes.

Ben nudges me with his elbow. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it all out.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Go to the courthouse tomorrow and sign the paperwork, wait one more day, and you’ll be safe. No worries.”

I nod, trying to smile. I have my suppressants and Leia told me to just call her if I have any problems. It’s going to be fine.

We finish our shopping and stop in the food court for pizza. My bed won’t be delivered until the next day so Ben offers me his, which is sweet. I’ll probably just crash on the couch; I figure I’m being a big enough pain in the ass as it is.

But he’s insistent and it seems more rude to keep refusing. I’m going to be married to him for the foreseeable future so there’s no point in tiptoeing around the house we’re going to share.

And there’s something about him that makes me hesitant to argue. I crumple under his gaze and smiles so slight that I can barely tell they’re there. He’s calm and quiet, agreeing in subtle nods with whatever his mother says, deliberate whenever he speaks. It’s easy to tell that he used to be in the military.

That’s good, though. More protection.

—•—

Leia leaves from the house to her hotel, leaving me alone with Ben. She gives me a long lingering hug and points in his face before her cab picks her up.

“Take your medicine,” she says, then leaves.

Somehow it gets even quieter out here at night. Cicadas buzz and crickets chirp but it doesn’t quite fill the silent void that stretches between Ben and I as soon as his mother walks out the door. It’s awkward being alone with him, or any man. Foreign.

Ben shakes his head as he turns the deadbolt. “You wanna take a shower, babe? Bath?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” I stand near the stairs, wringing my hands in front of me. “Long day.”

He nods, heaving a sigh as he turns, running a hand through his thick hair. “Really was. C’mon, I’ll show you the bathroom. Still working on the one down here but the toilet works at least.”

Cool, two toilets. That’s good.

I follow him upstairs to the bathroom across the hall from his bedroom. I’m curious to know what medicine he takes but it’s absolutely none of my business, so I don’t ask. He’s not an Alpha so I don’t care. We won’t have a very bad heat-rut situation.

Ben nudges open the bathroom door. It’s painted a soft shade of blue and has a pretty clawfoot tub against the far wall, matching a white vanity and white cabinets. Simple. I like it.

“Hot water takes a minute,” he says, “but it comes out. Got some towels and wash cloths on the rack there.” He clicks his tongue rapidly. “…About it, I think. We can go get you shampoo and stuff tomorrow after we go to the courthouse.”

“Great. Thanks—thank you.”

“No problem, kitten. You can use my shampoo if you want, too. Extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

“Also great. Good to have clean teeth.” I pause, chewing inside my cheek, anxiety building. “Don’t want gingivitis. And stuff.”

Ben laughs a little and nods, shrugging. “Yeah, sure. Have a good time in here.”

I thank him with a very awkward bow and he shakes his head as he leaves, smirking, but clearly thinking I’m an idiot. Perfect. I’m making a good impression.

I hurry down the hall to my bedroom and pick out the only sleeping clothes I have: an old Budweiser shirt that’s three sizes too big and a pair of yellow bike shorts. I bring a bra, too, because I’m sure it’s rude to walk around without one on.

The shower takes a minute to heat up but I jump in while it’s still cold and hurriedly scrub off the grime. I’m afraid of wasting the hot water and being an inconvenience, so I rush through washing, teeth chattering when I get out and put on my mismatched hobo pajamas. Again—perfect. I’m killing it so far.

I brush my teeth and wrap my hair in a towel before leaving the bathroom. Ben’s bedroom door is open and I peek inside to find him fitting sheets on the big bed in the middle of the room.

It’s messier than the rest of the house and the furniture doesn’t quite match. I’ve hardly begun checking it out when he glances up, does a double-take, and huffs.

“Hang on,” he says.

Ben crosses to a low, wide dresser and opens the top drawer. I don’t move a muscle while he rummages until he finds a pair of gray sweatpants and a thick black hoodie with the Marine insignia on the front. He gives them a sharp snap to shake off the fuzzies and strides over, nodding.

“Gets chilly here at night,” he says. “Arms up.”

I do as I’m told. He pulls the hoodie over my head and crouches to help me step into the sweatpants. They’re thick and warm and smell like campfire.

“Thanks,” I mumble. I shiver, folding my arms. “This really is a beautiful house. Thank you for letting me stay. And uh… marrying me.”

“No problem. Honestly, it’ll be nice having someone else here that isn’t Poe drunk on my couch.” Ben smiles a little and pats my shoulder. He squeezes. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Gonna make a list of facts for you in case immigration comes ‘round.”

That’s a good idea. If they quiz us then we need to be ready, and so far I know jack shit about Ben.

But I’m so exhausted that I can’t imagine taking the time to do it right now. I thank Ben again and he pats my upper arm before he leaves me alone in his bedroom, staring at the huge bed. Blue sheets.

I hesitate before I climb in. It’s comfortable and firm but it’s also not my bed and weird to sleep in.

Suck it up, Rey. You have a safe place to sleep and soon you’ll be a permanent resident. Good things.

I text Rose before I go to sleep. I miss her already.


	3. in your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the duty of a town clerk varies by state and county, but where I’m from they issue marriage licenses, and this is the way I remember getting mine SO that’s what I did

“Rey.”

I’m not woken by an alarm, but a warm, firm hand gently shaking my shoulder. At first I just grunt and swat at the stranger the same way I do when Rose tries to wake me up—but they laugh a little, and the deep sound makes me realize it’s not her.

I sit bolt upright in a strange bed with a strange man hovering over me. Instinct flares: _run, run, run_ —

But it’s just Ben, not a stranger. Technically. He smiles, shushing me and taking my wrist before I scramble and fall off the bed. Holy _shit_. My heart feels like it’s going to pound straight out of my chest and splatter across the room.

“Sorry,” he says, apologetic but clearly holding back laughter. “Didn’t mean to spook ya.”

I stare into his dark eyes for a minute before my gaze travels down his chest and across his arm to where his thick fingers are wrapped around my wrist. Huh. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt. Lots of muscles. Less pale than I thought he’d be.

Our eyes meet again and Ben quickly lets go, stepping back to give me space. I shield my face, then realize that probably makes it worse, and end up awkwardly rushing to get out of bed and not stare at his broad chest. Holy _shit_ , he’s huge. It’s his house so I shouldn’t expect him to be all covered up but—holy _shit_.

“We’re gonna go to the courthouse and meet mama after for breakfast,” he says. He turns, and I’m free to ogle all the defined muscle in his shoulders and again, holy _shit_. “We apply for the license to get married and can use it in a day.”

I nod, clearing my throat. “Great. Okay.”

“Papers are all ready downstairs. Mama called a lawyer we’re gonna meet with after the wedding to file the stuff—some forms or somethin’.”

Good, good. I’m glad Leia is so controlling and on top of things. She always is, and I’m hoping it’s going to help me stay in the country.

Ben leaves me to get dressed and I find my boss’s controlling streak has reached into my wardrobe. It’s pretty: a skirt and heels with a blouse, all folded neatly at the foot of the bed on the ottoman. Thankfully my bra and panties are still in my suitcase and I _really_ hope Ben didn’t see them.

Not that it matters. He’s going to see my… things… sooner or later. Is it rude to ask him to wear more layers? Probably. It’s his house.

After I brush my teeth I walk downstairs, following the smell of bacon and eggs. My heels click across the hardwood as I slowly edge into the kitchen doorway. I could eat. I’m always hungry. Usually Rose does a lot of the cooking back home but… obviously she isn’t around for that anymore.

Ben is dressed, to my mixed relief and disappointment. Long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, shirt tucked in even though it’s obvious he hates it. Gray smoke curls out the window over the sink and I see he already has the table set with cutlery and mugs for coffee. Wow. Prepared.

He looks over his shoulder and waves his spatula, smiling. I wave back.

“Hey there,” he says. His jaw works like he’s chewing gum. “Don’t you look nice?”

“You too. Blue looks good with your… skin.”

His smile widens and he nods, turning back to his cooking as I scurry to sit, mortified. Jesus Christ. Good with your _skin_? Am I fucking Buffalo Bill?

Ben brings me over a plate with bacon and eggs and toast and I manage to thank him without shoving my foot in my mouth again. I sip my coffee, which is a little strong, but it’s not like I’m going to complain. It’s free. He made it. I’m open to accepting charity.

“Don’t tell mama we already ate,” he warns, teasing, pointing his fork at me. “She gets all snippy, but I can’t wait that long for food, y’know?”

“Oh, no. I won’t say anything.” I shake my head and spear some scrambled eggs. “I’m always hungry so I don’t mind eating twice. It’s a side effect of the suppressants but I’m also just… _always_ hungry.”

“Yeah?” Ben frowns and peers at me, studying but not in a creepy, lingering way. “Sure looks like you’re always hungry. Mama making sure you make enough to eat, kitten?”

Oh shit. I nod fast, hurrying to assure him that Leia pays me a livable wage (she does) and I’m not starving to death. The suppressants amp up my metabolism and make gaining weight hard, but my appetite is so intense that I end up eating myself to the point of vomiting.

So I just have to be careful and know when to cut myself off, even when my guts are still screaming for more. It’s still better than suffering through heat—which has never happened. I hope it never does.

We finish breakfast and I brush my teeth again before we leave. Ben drives us into town, about half an hour out from the farmhouse, full of old buildings and cracked sidewalks and despite the fancy antique stores and street lamps, I find it foreboding. It’s old for sure. Definitely not quaint.

But after we’re parked outside the municipal building and Ben helps me out, I figure it must be one of those ‘up-and-coming’ towns. They’re trying to revitalize with a retro movie theater and a string of shops on the main street through the middle of the town. It’s going to look very nice someday.

We head inside the municipal building. It’s air conditioned and dilapidated like the rest of town, worn wooden beams coming apart and granite floor cracked through. Ben knits his fingers in mine and guides me down a hallway to the town clerk. I don’t know who that is or what she does, but he seems to know what’s going on.

“Will they ask questions?” I whisper. “I didn’t read the stuff you wrote down.”

“Nah, not yet. Sure as hell will when we send in the paperwork in a couple days.”

We pause outside a door at the end of the short hallway. Ben peeks inside and smiles as he waves to someone, then reaches in his breast pocket.

I cover my mouth when he takes out the ring. Shit! How did I forget it?!

“Sorry!” I blurt.

He shrugs and lifts my hand to gently slide it on my finger. I’m embarrassed and feel like it was offensive to forget all about it.

“It’s okay.” Ben kisses the back of my hand, dark eyes glittering like he’s thinking something he shouldn’t say. “You’ll make it up to me on the honeymoon.”

The door opens. Out walks a very pretty brunette, grasping the edge of the door like she’s afraid to interrupt. Ben waves her over and she hugs him and I’m ignored for a minute whine they chat about high school and blah blah. Must be an old friend.

“It’s so good to see you!” the girl squeals. She holds him at arm’s length and looks him up and down. “Leia told me you’d be coming ‘round for a marriage license and—” Blue eyes wander to me and her smile widens. “You must be Rey! I’m Olivia—so nice to meet you!”

Olivia shakes my hand and I’m practically blinded by the huge diamond on her ring finger. More distracting is her slightly swollen stomach, and even _more_ distracting is the big bite on the side of her neck. But she isn’t wearing a registration bracelet.

Beta? With an Alpha?

I recover quickly and smile back. “Thanks, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

She rests her hand on her stomach and motions for us to follow her into the office. Ben chats with her but I’m confused. Did an Alpha bite her? Does she not have to wear a bracelet?

Olivia walks behind the counter, clicking her tongue. “So, I just need those papers I told your mama about, Ben: immigration, birth certificate…”

“Got it all right here.”

Leia holds onto the important things for me and she’s never unprepared. I wait politely while Ben hands Olivia the paperwork and see a nameplate on the green countertop with her name and _Town Clerk_ behind it. What do town clerks do?

Olivia leafs through and nods. I’m extremely curious to know if she’s married to an Alpha and if so, how that works, but it’s way too rude to ask. I can’t even ask Ben since I barely know him, too.

She passes Ben a paper application and he keeps chatting with her as he picks up a pen. The office is nice: clean and organized, nice and cool from the air conditioning, and there are two desks behind the counter. Whatever she does must be really important.

“Rey, honey; you want to change your last name?”

I blink, clearing my throat. “Ah… well…”

Ben is leaning on the counter, one hand supporting his chin. He shrugs at my tentative glance. The pen taps on the counter.

“Up to you, kitten,” he says. “Might raise some eyebrows if you don’t.”

“It will,” Olivia agrees, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

It feels so… permanent to change my last name. But it can be changed back, and I don’t want to risk losing a green card, so I agree for it to be changed. Solo. It’s not a bad last name, even if I prefer Niima.

Ben fills out the entire application and hands it back to Olivia. He opens an arm and wags his fingers, smiling, so I shuffle over into his embrace. He’s warm. Smells nice, like woodsy cologne. He loops his arm around my waist and holds me tight to his ribs while Olivia checks things over.

“Looks good,” she says. “Just going to type it up with a seal, and you’ll have it signed by the officiant when you have the ceremony.”

I’m surprised by how easy it all is. Olivia types the license into a much nicer document and hands it to Ben, he thanks her and says we should all get dinner sometime, and we leave.

I squint in the morning sunshine outside, frowning. “No blood work? Don’t they usually want that when a demi-human marries a Beta?”

Ben shakes his head. “Nah, only when two demi… people get married. Olivia’s married to an Alpha, y’know. Good friend in high school—Percy—he’s a good guy. They’ve got two kids already.”

 _What_? A Beta married to an _Alpha_? How does she… keep up with him? How does knotting work?

The shock must show on my face because Ben raises his eyebrows and nods, laughing as if he’s agreeing with my unspoken horror. We walk down the steps to the sidewalk and I look around to make sure no one is listening. Don’t want to offend anyone.

“Seriously?” I ask. “I mean—I’m not trying to be rude, but…”

“Yeah, beats me how that works.” Ben slides his hands in his pockets, strolling along beside me toward the car. “But I guess if you love somebody it doesn’t matter, right?”

…Maybe. I shrug. Hard to say, since I’ve never really been with anyone or even gone through heat to know what it’s like. But I know the hormones are impossible to resist and I don’t think all the love in the world can overcome them.


	4. gather up the pitiful

Our wedding goes off without a hitch.

Things tend to flow smoothly when Leia is in charge, though. She organizes a small event with a handful of people I don’t recognize, and I wear a plain white dress that comes down just past my knees. Ben wears a black suit vest for most of the wedding and tugs at the collar like it’s choking him.

The food is delicious and the company is great. I wish Rose could’ve come. She loves parties.

Ben and I sign the wedding certificate at the end of the ceremony and are officially, legally married. It’s a weird feeling, not quite sinking in until we’re cleaning up after everyone has gone home and my new wedding band smacks one of the crystal glasses.

I jump, gasping at the sound. Ben looks up from a table he’s folding and laughs.

“Sorry!” I call.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, kitten.” He shakes his head and keeps laughing as he stacks the table in the bed of his truck. “You jump around like a baby rabbit.”

Yeah, sometimes I do. It’s getting dark in the backyard and that makes me more jumpy than I usually am.

Leia walks by to let us know we need to leave to catch our flight. I’m excited for my fake honeymoon: we’re going to Virginia Beach, and I’ve never been to the ocean before, so it should be fun. There’s an aquarium there and a pier with restaurants and stores, but I think I’ll spend most of my time swimming.

Ben and I finish getting our things together for the week we’ll be away and hug Leia goodbye. She has all the paperwork and promises to work with the lawyer while we’re gone so we have some time before immigration comes to interview us.

“I’ll make the second room look like it’s for a guest,” she assures us as she fixes the collar of Ben’s dress shirt. “You two have fun and enjoy the ocean. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Ben kisses her cheek and I give her a tight hug. I’m emotional from the wedding and her generosity and she laughs a little when I burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffle. Ben rubs my back.

“I would do the same for any of my girls.” Leia curls a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling widely. “But you’ve always been like a daughter to me, Rey. There’s no way I’ll let them take you.”

We embrace once more before Ben guides me to his truck. He leans over and kisses my cheek because I’m still crying and having a hard time getting a grip. It’s embarrassing but I’m anxious and excited and terrified and all I can do is cry about it.

“S-Sorry,” I stammer. “I’m sorry.”

He turns the key in the ignition, then reaches out to pat my thigh. I’m wearing jeans now but his touch still makes my skin tingle.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Ben reassures me for the hundredth time. He waves to his mother through the windshield and shifts into reverse. “I’m gonna show you how to swim, we’ll go see the dolphins at the aquarium—you can get one of those big margaritas.”

“God, how sad is it that I don’t know how to swim?”

He puts a hand on the back of my headrest and looks over his shoulder as he reverses. I didn’t have much opportunity to learn how. Omegas aren’t supposed to go anywhere unsupervised and the ocean is dangerous.

“I’ll show you.” Ben shifts into gear again and offers me a lopsided smile. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

—•—

We arrive in Virginia Beach in a little over two hours, just after night has fallen. Our hotel is a quick Uber from the airport, and I roll down my window excitedly when I catch a glimpse of the ocean on the horizon. Thick, humid air whips my hair around my face and the saltiness on the breeze surprises me.

It’s more intense once we pull up to our hotel, a big place that’s directly on the beach, but I don’t find it any worse than being in Alabama. I’m just excited to see the water and feel the sand between my toes.

Ben brings me to the check-in desk and they congratulate us on being newlyweds. It’s kind of awkward but he wraps an arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head to sell it. He isn’t a bad guy—he’s actually pretty attractive, but he’s my boss’s son and I don’t want to complicate things with Leia any more. He’s _just_ a friend.

Besides: I don’t think he wants to make things complicated and weird, either. I’m sure he understands that with me being an Omega and him being Beta, things might not work out in the long run. Plenty of girls must like him.

The air conditioning works great in the hotel; maybe a little too well. I’m shivering when we get up to our room, one at the end of the hallway with a single king bed. It’s modern and clean and all I want to do is crawl under the covers to warm up.

Ben closes the door behind me. “You okay, kitten?”

“Yeah, just kind of cold.” I fold my arms and wheel my suitcase to the end of the bed. “I think I’ll take a shower and turn in for the night.”

He tilts his head. “You wanna go see the water? There’s an algae bloom and it’s gonna be lit up.”

“Algae bloom? Isn’t that bad?”

“Nah, not always. Kind of rare for it to happen around here, though.”

Well… it would be cool to see that.

I change into shorts and a tank top in the fancy bathroom, that has travel-size shampoo and face wash and soap. Better take those with me when we leave. Will they charge the room if I do?

Ben is in a tank top, too when I come out, and blue swim trunks. He does have a tattoo that I’ve only caught peeks of before: it twists over his shoulder and partway up his neck and collarbone, then down his ribs, something convoluted I can’t make out. Almost looks like it was used to cover another tattoo.

His biceps are about as thick around as telephone poles and I have to tear my gaze away. Don’t ogle.

“So… you were born in London?” he asks as we walk out.

“Yeah, and I don’t know my parents. Makes things a lot simpler for that interview.”

“Sure does.” He tests the door handle to make sure it’s locked and casually takes my hand. “But I didn’t have to ask anybody for permission to marry you. Can’t say I’m bummed about that.”

I laugh and he smiles. True. Silver linings.

A narrow path leads through beachgrass over a broad sand dune to the beach. We walk through a broken old fence and I kick off my flip flops in the cool sand, beaming up at Ben. He holds out a hand to take my shoes and nods, apparently picking up on my unspoken desire to run to the water.

So I do.

Soft, grainy sand gives way to compacted wetness and the temperature drops a little. Something scuttles out of the way and I shriek when I see a crab scurrying into the water to avoid my feet, then I dance back to make sure there aren’t any more of them nearby to pinch me. Moonlight reflects off the waves gently rolling into shore and drowns out Ben’s laugh as he meanders over to me.

“They won’t hurt you,” he calls.

I’m so distracted by the crabs that I barely notice the glowing waves, tinged blue from the algae bloom Ben was talking about. There’s a breeze but it’s thick with salt and leaves a tacky wetness on my legs.

“They’re everywhere!” I squeak. I shine my phone flashlight on the sand and yelp when I see another crab. “Do they bite?!”

Ben casually bends over to pick one up by the carapace and I backpedal into the waves. No thanks.

He shakes his head, motioning for me to come back. “Come touch him. They don’t bite, just give a nasty pinch if you piss ‘em off.”

“Oh god. I don’t like that.”

“No?” He raises his eyebrows and reaches out to grab my wrist, tugging me closer. “Wait ‘til you see the size of the mosquitoes back home. Don’t recommend pettin’ them.”

Eugh. I wince but pat the crab’s shell as instructed and Ben tosses it in the ocean. We stand there and watch it wash back in to shore and scuttle off into the sand, hopefully never to be seen again.

I shiver, gazing across the vast black ocean, squinting up at the moon overhead. Clear night.

“It’s warm,” I say, stupidly. My toes curl in the wet sand as blue, foamy water laps around my ankles.

“You like it?”

I look up and nod, a little taken aback. “Of course! It’s beautiful—I’m not complaining—”

Ben sighs and slips an arm around my waist to bring me in for a side hug. He kisses the top of my head the way he likes to and I redden. Thank god he can’t see me blushing right now.

“I’m glad you like it,” he murmurs into my hair.

“I do. It’s great.” I hesitate, then turn to hug him, both arms around his waist. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“You’re welcome, kitten. You don’t owe me nothin’.”

We stand there for a couple minutes, and I slowly nuzzle into Ben’s chest. His cologne is _amazing._ Lately it’s been stronger than usual and I can’t get enough of it: earthy and strong, like campfire and pine needles. It’s something I can relax into and get lost in.

Then we go back to our hotel room hand-in-hand, skirting crabs along the way. I scream a couple times when one relentlessly chases me a hundred feet down the beach and Ben winds up carrying me the rest of the way back. I fucking hate crabs.

—•—

I’m very warm when I wake up the following morning. Relaxed. Sleepy.

Yawning, I stretch out my legs under the soft sheets, turning to nuzzle into my pillow. This is great. I’ve never been on a real vacation before—I wonder if I can get these sheets in my new bedroom?

Before I can turn over to see if Ben is awake and ask what he wants to do today, I feel something heavy around my waist. Frowning, I blindly reach down under the covers and my eyes snap open.

It’s him. He offered to sleep on the pull out but I thought that wasn’t fair and told him we could share the bed. It’s so big that I didn’t think we’d touch, but we’re definitely touching now, and something hard is pushing against my butt. I don’t think it’s a cell phone.

I flush. His hand is hanging over my side, fingertips brushing my belly, and he’s fast asleep. And hard.

I’m not sure how to escape without making it extremely awkward for both of us. It’s normal; guys just have that happen sometimes in the morning, but I don’t want to acknowledge it and acknowledge that he’s a man with a penis and holy shit I’m _married_ ; I’m actually fucking married to someone.

Ben stirs and I go still. He groans, hand sliding up to rest on my hip and squeeze, huge body stretching. My heart flutters when he kisses the top of my head, then it thunders as his fingers push up the front of my pajama top. Oh god. I should stop him.

“Good mornin’,” he rumbles.

Fingertips press into my skin. My breath hitches, face burning as he idly envelops my breast in one giant hand. He kneads for a minute, gentle and curious, and circles my nipple with the pad of his index finger. I’m confused and a bit embarrassed but don’t say a word. I hold my breath until his hand is gone.

Ben doesn’t acknowledge it. He yawns and sits up, stretching more before he gets out of bed and leaves me lying there trying to hide my red cheeks. The bathroom door closes on the other side of our room.

I’m not bringing it up. Not when he’s been so nice to me. I shiver and hop out of bed to pick my outfit for our aquarium trip, determined not to be a burden to my new fake husband or my very real boss. Probably thought he was dreaming. People do weird things when they’re dreaming.


	5. what seems impossible

Ben brings me to the aquarium after we have breakfast. It’s huge but still crowded with screaming kids and exhausted parents, and we get through most of the exhibits before we decide to leave. The humidity is terrible and I don’t really take a deep breath until we’re outside on the sidewalk.

“It’s like a zoo!” I exclaim to Ben.

He laughs and hands me my water. “Yeah, kids get excited when they see animals.”

I shake my head as I take a sip, gazing out across a parking lot chock full of SUVs and minivans. A young family walks past us with one of those expensive strollers and Ben watches the baby for a second.

“I dunno.” I shrug. “I don’t think it’s for me. I know I’m an O and I should want kids, but… wow.”

“They’re not like that all the time,” he says. He watches the family walking away and reaches in his breast pocket for a cigarette. “Zoos and aquariums are just a perfect storm—gets ‘em _way_ overstimulated.”

“I guess. I don’t know.”

Ben smiles as we amble toward the parking lot. He lights his cigarette and takes a long pull of it.

“You’ll change your mind, kitten.”

We get to the rental car, a blue SUV, and I hop in the passenger side while Ben drives. Lunch is at a small diner about twenty minutes from the aquarium, then it’s off to the hotel so Ben can teach me how to swim.

The bathing suit Leia got for me leaves little to the imagination: two thin white squares cover my breasts and it feels like half my butt is hanging out of the bottoms. But I don’t have any other options so I just change and put on the matching slip. Maybe Ben will remember accidentally touching me this morning and apologize. I’m sure he feels weird about it, too.

He’s waiting for me near the door, already changed into swim trunks and a red T-shirt. His eyebrows raise.

“Looks good, Rey.” He unlocks the door and his gaze wanders down my slip, which ends just above my knees. “Mama pick that out for you?”

“Yeah. It’s a little revealing, but…”

But what am I going to do? Complain?

It’s a short walk down to the beach and we bring chairs, an umbrella, and a cooler with snacks and sunscreen. Ben piles towels on his broad shoulders that flutter in the wind as we trudge through the sand dunes. It’s busier today, but there’s plenty of space. Kids splash in the shallows; a couple people are out deeper in inner tubes or on boogie boards. The sand is hot under my bare feet.

I shield my eyes, squinting out at the ocean while Ben unfolds our chairs. It’s so _green_. I thought it would be bright blue but really, it just looks light green.

It’s beautiful, though: the waves roll in slow, cresting in white caps before they crash to shore and crawl up the sand, chasing squealing kids. The breeze is salty and cool, and I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes. Peaceful. I can see why people live here.

“Want some sunblock, kitten?”

Ben is holding an orange bottle of Banana Boat sunscreen and he wiggles it in his fingers. His shirt is off, folded and stowed in our beach bag, and I can see his ridiculously big upper body better in the sunlight: tanned but not as deeply as mine, tattoos curling down one arm and over the shoulder, up to his neck. He has smaller tattoos on his other arm. More scars than I remember, all knotted and pale from age.

I don’t take off my slip until I’m standing in front of him, and quickly fold my arms to hide my chest. He raises an eyebrow as he squirts some sunscreen in his palm.

“Y’look good,” he says, rubbing the stuff between his hands. “Turn around and I’ll do your back.”

I’m not concerned about how good I look—I’m just not used to being half naked in front of people. But I turn obediently and shiver when Ben presses the cold sunscreen to my shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” I gather my hair over my shoulder and keep myself hunched.

“And if anything falls off, I’ll go get it for you.”

“God, I hope nothing falls off. This top doesn’t leave much to the imagination as it is.”

He hooks the back strap with his pinkie and rubs a hand underneath, smearing the skin there. When he lets go I feel the tension release and squeak as my top slouches forward, almost flashing a family about twenty feet away.

“Shit!” I hiss. I didn’t tie it very well to begin with. Didn’t want to bother Ben.

He swears. “Sorry—Sorry. Didn’t know it was so loose.” Fingers wrap around my upper arm and tug. “Come face me and I’ll fix it.”

I turn and he finishes massaging the sunscreen in, bent over me and reaching his fingertips just inside the hem of my bottoms. Before I can think to say anything about it, he’s retying my top, and I decide once again that it’s not worth bringing up. Just being thorough, and he didn’t grab my ass.

He nuzzles the top of my head while he ties. My scalp tingles.

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. “You use my shampoo?”

“It was better than the hotel stuff. I’m sorry.”

Ben hums, and I swear it sounds like a growl. “Use it whenever you want. I don’t mind you smellin’ like me.”

I’m released, and I return the favor. Ben kneels under their shade of our umbrella and I try not to linger while I rub in the sunscreen all across his broad back. It takes a couple handfuls before he’s covered, giving me some time to inspect his tattoos.

Within the twisted vines and animals and other things, there’s a chain of numbers: 000776. I frown and pause over his shoulder.

“Can I ask—what’s up with your tattoo?”

Ben tilts his head a little. “My numbers from prison. Tried coverin’ them up but guess I’ll be payin’ for that stupid mistake forever.”

Prison? Leia didn’t mention that he went to prison.

“…What for?” I ask, voice pitching nervously.

“Mama didn’t tell you?” Ben turns this time, eyebrows raised.

“No, she never mentioned it.”

He frowns with the same confusion I have, and hesitates before he responds.

“‘Bout ten years.” His eyes wander. “Drugs and shit. Nothin’ serious.”

“…Oh.”

 _Drugs_? If he gets in trouble, that could put my green card at risk. But he doesn’t seem like a drug dealer, not that I’ve ever met one: he’s nice, and good to his mother, and helping me out. But I can’t help feeling more intimidated than before; more unsettled. It’s not fair of me to judge someone who served their time, and it’s not like he killed or hurt anyone.

We finish putting on our sunblock and Ben takes my hand to lead me down to the water. My pulse picks up as the water laps around my ankles and my steps sink deep into muddy sand. It’s so _deep_.

“Maybe we should try the pool first?” I call.

Ben laughs over his shoulder, pulling me, already up to his waist. He twists in the water to face me.

“Sink or swim,” he says, then I’m tugged off my feet.

The water is dark and cool and I kick for a second, panicking. Ben pulls me in to his chest and I scramble for his shoulders, panting in terror and wrapping my legs tight around his waist. Holy shit—something touched my foot.

“Something touched my foot!” I shriek.

“Seaweed, kitten. Though…” His thick arms wrap around me and he gently twists again, easing into deeper water. “Sharks like this shallow water.”

I hide my face in the crook of his neck, searching the gentle waves for any signs of a shark. They swell just behind Ben, carrying us in towards shore a couple feet. I hope his feet are touching.

I shiver. “Don’t say that or I’ll _never_ swim.”

He laughs, and his chest rumbles under mine. His neck smells nice. Strong. Kind of like mint.

“Better chance of bein’ struck by lightnin’ than bit by a shark.” He cups the back of my head. I feel his lips near my ear. “But you don’t gotta worry about that. I’m more likely to bite you.” Then he does, playfully nipping my shoulder, and I squeal.

We keep twisting through the water, rolling in with the waves and back out when Ben takes a couple steps. His mouth lingers near my shoulder. The next time we drift in, his lips move, brushing my skin back and forth. He combs his fingers through my hair and gives a subtle tug, exposing my throat to him. I don’t resist. It’s instinctive.

Warmth trails up the nape of my neck as he kisses a line along the tendon in my throat. They’re wet and hot and open-mouthed and I feel his tongue lap across my skin. Fuck. I should say something—but just like this morning, it feels weird to say something. Like bringing it up will make it real.

He hums as he spins us in a wide circle, nipping my earlobe. I stare at the flat blue horizon. Don’t move. Don’t say anything. Don’t mention that you can feel his cock against your stomach.

“You gotta let go, kitten,” Ben whispers in my ear. He nuzzles. “Want to try letting go tomorrow?”

I nod fast to his suggestion. I’m unsettled by the insistent pressure of his arousal and the kissing and the fondling this morning, and I’m a little worried a shark might eat me. I bury my face in his warm neck and lock my arms around it instead.

We swirl quietly through the water. Voices carry over from the beach, muddled from the distance and the lapping waves. It feels like we’re in our own little world out here—and I guess we kind of are.

Ben sighs. He doesn’t say anything, but one hand wanders from my back to my ribs, and I swallow a lump. He’s hard and his fingers are creeping up between us, and he lets his hand slide down to cup my butt, squeezing. I squirm, blushing.

It doesn’t stop him. He kisses my neck lazily as he worms under the hem of my top, cupping my breast in his cool palm. No… no, no, no…

“We can try in the pool first,” Ben whispers in my hair. His thumb teases my nipple, stroking in a light circle. “Give it a try tomorrow.”

I don’t know what to do. I nod along and try to ignore him groping me; pretend I can’t feel his dick pressing on my stomach. He doesn’t speak while he plays with my breast but keeps kissing along my neck and down my shoulder, lackadaisical as he twirls us around in the deep water. It makes my skin prickle and tingle and I’m relieved I’m on suppressants. Feels good. He smells good. Minty but warm.

Ben pinches my nipple between his fingertips. Teeth scrape the crook of my neck.

“Whatever you want, kitten,” he coos, lips on my skin. “We can take it slow.”

Our slow swim comes to an end a couple minutes later. Ben adjusts my top as his hand withdraws and doesn’t say anything when he brings me in to shore. He sets me to my feet once we reach our chairs, and takes it upon himself to wrap a towel around my shoulders. Shivering, I slowly lower myself to my chair. Don’t look him in the eyes.

He sits in his chair and takes out a dripping can of beer from the cooler. Ben puts his sunglasses on and smiles at me before he takes a drink. I shrink in my chair and try my best to hide in my towel, wilting under his stare.


	6. i think i have had my fill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RUT ROH

That night I’m on edge as I crawl into bed beside Ben. I’m full and drowsy from our dinner at a seafood shack but now we’re alone and I’m terrified he’s going to touch me.

I’m going to say something if he does. I’ll tell Rose first; just to bounce it off someone before going to Leia. She’ll understand. We don’t even have to get Ben involved—Leia can pull him aside and say ‘hey, Rey doesn’t like that because it will make things complicated.’

My new husband sits up and pulls off his shirt. dropping it to the floor. I can’t make out much in the darkness but I _can_ make out his broad shadow looming beside me. My heart hammers, palms sweating on my thighs. Please don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. I don’t know what I’ll say if you do.

Ben yawns. He smiles down at me, hidden up to my nose under the blankets. I blink.

“Happy first day of bein’ married.”

Then he turns over and goes to sleep. I stare at his hulking shape beside me for a minute, then slowly turn on my side to face the opposite wall.

Okay. This will be fine.

—•—

I’m up before Ben in the morning and take a shower as quick as I can. He wouldn’t walk in on me. I know he wouldn’t. But… still.

He’s awake and watching ESPN, standing in the middle of the living room when I emerge from the steamy bathroom with my hair wound up in a towel. No shirt. He glances over his shoulder and breaks into a grin, dark eyes wandering down my pajamas before he looks at the television again.

“I don’t know how you girls do that,” he says.

“It’s easy. Just twist.” I peel my gaze away from his tattoo and shuffle to the dresser to pick my outfit. “So what are we doing today?”

“Up to you, kitten. We can go the beach, museums, go shoppin’. Whatever you want.”

“Oh I don’t have any money to go shopping, so—”

“I do.”

He’s looking at me when I turn. Smiling.

I shake my head, going back to hunting for an outfit. “It’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“It’s not about _need_. It’s about _want_.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been a big enough imposition as it is.”

Ben laughs and turns off the TV. He slaps my ass as he walks by me to the bathroom and I jump, biting my tongue to stifle a squeal.

“Leia teach you them big words? _Imposition_.” He shakes his head, still laughing as he disappears into the bathroom.

I stand there for a full minute until the shower turns on. My butt stings where he slapped me and I’m not sure if that’s considered inappropriate touching. Rose and I slap each other on the ass sometimes when we’re joking around. Baseball players do it. It’s not like he grabbed and squeezed.

It’s easier if I pretend it’s not a big deal.

—•—

The mall near Virginia Beach is enormous. I’m not used to shopping in malls as it is, since I’m usually making just enough to get by living with Rose. Goodwill is more my speed, not Nordstrom.

We take our rental car and Ben knits his long fingers through mine once we’re inside. I press closer, unnerved by the crowd and noise. The smell of warm pretzels and fast food permeates the recycled air in a very unappetizing way. I don’t think I like this.

Ben is much more at ease. He lets me wander into the pet store to look at the reptiles and fish and rodents they have for sale, and we pet some designer breed dogs in a display cage. A couple thousand dollars for a dog seems excessive to me, especially when there are so many up for adoption in shelters.

But I’ve always wanted a dog. Every family seems to have one, and from the first day I came to the States on my visa—I wanted one.

“You think you’ll get remarried when we’re done here?”

I’m leaning on the cage letting the puppy gnaw my finger when Ben speaks. He’s leaning on the wall, hands in his pockets, watching people walking by through the window.

I wipe spit off on my shirt. “Um… maybe. I dunno.”

“Always Alphas lookin’ for Os.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to settle down right away when I have my green card. I think I want to be on my own for a while—explore.”

Ben raises his eyebrows and looks over at me. “All by yourself? Pretty dangerous.”

“Yeah…” I touch my registration bracelet. “It’s dangerous no matter where I go.”

He shrugs, nodding. For some reason, I feel like I just failed a test.

We walk through the mall to Nordstrom, hand-in-hand. Married people hold hands, especially ones that _aren’t_ defrauding the immigration system. Ben leads me to the women’s clothes. I’m wearing a plain T-shirt and Bermuda shorts because Leia prefers us to dress conservatively. Most of the women I’ve seen around are wearing shorts so short I can see the outline of their vagina between their legs.

I hang by Ben’s side as he picks through a rack of dresses, uncomfortable and out of place. Women give him second glances when they walk by.

“I like you in green,” he says.

“Really? Rose thinks I’m more of a blue person.”

He glances down at me and smiles, lopsided and kind of smug. It makes my pulse quicken.

“Green brings out your eyes,” he murmurs. He takes a dress off the rack and his smiles widens. “Wanna try somethin’ on for me?”

I shrug, nodding. Sure.

We walk through the store to fitting rooms toward the back. I’m not used to wearing dresses but it’s pretty hot in Virginia _and_ Alabama so it might not be a bad idea to get a couple. As long as it isn’t an imposition on Ben or his mother.

Ben walks to the last fitting room and nudges the door open. I expect him to hand me the dress and leave but he just motions for me to go in. I turn as he shuts the door and hangs up the dress on the wall. I’m hardly able to open my mouth before he saunters closer and grasps the hem of my shirt.

“You’re gonna need some lighter clothes,” he says. “Arms up.”

When I hesitate, he raises his eyebrows expectantly. I lift my arms and Ben pulls off my shirt.

He drops it to the small chair in the corner of the room. “We’ll find you a couple pretty dresses. Shame to hide those long legs.”

“I can… I can do this myself,” I mumble.

Ben casually unbuttons my shorts and pulls down the zipper. He pushes them down and crouches to take them off completely, adding them to the chair without saying a word or asking permission. I’m only in my mismatched bra and panties and struggling to cover myself. Okay. Well—okay?

He tugs the dress over my head. It’s soft cotton and the hem comes a couple inches above my knees; it’s a sun dress, and it’s comfortable and pretty. Sleeveless. The neckline plunges a little deeper than what I’m used to, exposing my cleavage in a way Leia wouldn’t like. She’d tell me to change.

Ben steps back a foot to take it in, smiling. He turns me so I’m facing my reflection and I’m embarrassed by how much I’m blushing, pink from the tips of my ears across my chest.

“See?” He gently grasps my upper arms and kisses the top of my head. “Look how beautiful you are.”

I don’t know what to say so I just stand there and wait for him to direct me. Rose would get a kick out of this.

His grip loosens on my arm. Ben nuzzles my hair and gently winds his arm around my front, and I stare at my reflection as his other hand slides from my arm across my breast. He slips his middle finger under the edge of the dress and my bra. He’s groping me again, and this time I’m watching it happen.

 _What are you doing?_ bubbles up in my throat but doesn’t come out. I watch Ben’s finger circle under the thin fabric, stimulating my nipple, frozen in fear and confusing arousal. He keeps his face hidden in my hair and doesn’t say a word while he touches me. People laugh and talk outside.

My breath hitches a little when he slips another finger in my bra. I grab his forearm with both my hands as it rides up under my chest and holds me tighter.

“Green looks good on you, don’t it?” Ben rumbles in my ear. I nod woodenly. “Mhm. Think I’ll keep puttin’ you in pretty dresses like this.”

My lower lip quivers. What am I supposed to say? I don’t want to tell him to stop and make the next couple years awkward. He saved my life. How do I refuse him? What if he divorces me or tells the immigration officer about our arrangement?

Ben plays with my nipple for a long couple minutes before his hand slides away. I’m relieved until his fingers skate down my hip and gather the hem of my dress in his fist.

“Um—uh—” I squirm.

“What? Don’t like dresses?”

My jaw snaps shut in shock as Ben dips his hand between my legs. He hugs me when I struggle and suck in a sharp breath.

He just cups his hand there under my dress and doesn’t acknowledge it. I stare at my wide-eyed reflection and my hands tremble on his thick forearm. What is he doing? What do I say? My tongue feels swollen and my throat is dry; I can’t even begin to say _no_ or _please don’t_.

Ben sighs. His kisses my temple and his hand winds up to my hip.

“You’ll get used to ‘em.”

His voice is deep and a little ominous, carrying weight behind it that makes my hair stand up on end. I don’t think he’s just talking about dresses.

There’s a pause, then he pats my hip and says he’s going to find more for me to try. I stay rooted to the spot and don’t think I blink once.


	7. i think i should give up the ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chaos porn

Back at the hotel, I decide I want to call Rose—and I can’t find my phone anywhere.

Stomach in knots, I go to Ben to ask for help. Where could it be? I’m usually so careful with it. It’s my only way to call Rose and Leia.

He’s not nearly as upset about it as I am. He frowns and shrugs and offers me his phone instead, so I figure it’s not him _hiding_ it from me. He’s letting me call his mother. Nothing to hide.

“Rey?”

I’m sitting at our small table in the hotel room. Ben is in the chair near the bed, watching football and running his index finger along his upper lip. I stare at him and swallow.

“Hey,” I mumble. I play with the hem of my shirt. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Are you having fun, dear? Ben told me he’s teaching you how to swim and you bought some new clothes! You’ll have to show me when you get back.”

How do I broach the subject of her son touching me inappropriately? Especially with him in the room?

Ben’s dark eyes flicker to mine. He smiles, and I manage a nervous smile back. What am I supposed to do—ignore it?

“Rey?”

“It’s good,” I blurt, nodding. I look down at my lap. “I’m having a good time.”

“Oh. Good, good. Make sure you do some studying for when the officer comes to conduct your interview, okay? Make sure you’re prepared for it.”

I just nod along with Leia until she asks to speak to Ben. He chews his gum and smiles when I shuffle over and hand him the phone, and before I can turn around, he snags me around the waist. My eyes bug as Ben yanks me into his lap.

“Hey mama,” he says, conversational. He pulls me against his chest and settles me on his thigh. I grab his forearm locked around my middle. “How’re things?”

Leia squawks but I can’t make out what she’s saying. My heart thunders and Ben laughs at something she says. He smells vaguely of cigarettes.

“Yeah, yeah; we’re good. Havin’ a grand old time.”

His arm around my middle moves, fingers skating across my thigh and between my legs. I stiffen and stare straight ahead and bite my lower lip when he gently _rubs_ there with two fingers. What the—

Ben kisses the side of my head. He nods at something his mother says and seems to settle the phone on his shoulder, then roughly spreads my legs with his free hand. He keeps a hold on my knee and strokes a little harder, making me whimper. I push against his chest and squirm because I’m still too afraid to speak.

“Should be back in a couple days, yeah. Get my new little wife settled in.” His breath is warm on my scalp and he lowers his voice, stimulating me through my thin leggings. “Gonna look so pretty in all her new dresses.”

He squeezes my thigh and slaps it before his hand slips away to hold the phone. His other keeps moving rhythmically between my legs and he just talks with his mother like nothing is happening, laughing sometimes, refusing to let me go no matter how much I struggle. _No_ catches in my throat but I can’t quite bring myself to say it, and soon my hips buck against his fingers and I figure it won’t carry much weight if I’m reacting to him.

It doesn’t hurt—it feels good, but it’s confusing and humiliating. My breaths quicken, tension rapidly climbing in the haze of conflicting emotion, and Ben finally hangs up the phone. He covers my mouth and doesn’t say a word as he brings me over the edge, and I pant into his rough palm, eyelids fluttering, clutching his hand buried between my thighs.

It starts tumbling out when his hand slips away from my mouth. My heart races but I say it.

“Please don’t—please don’t touch me like that.”

Ben slides his hand up my shirt. He buries his face in my hair and locks his other arm around my waist to hold me in place, suppressing my feeble attempts to escape. Greedy fingers lift my bra out of the way and play with my nipple, circling, pinching lightly.

His breaths are ragged in my ear. “You ever got a problem—you don’t gotta call mama. Don’t gotta get her involved. Stress her out. Okay, kitten?”

I’m on the verge of tears being crushed in his embrace while he molests me and casually ignores my request for him to stop. I manage a nod and he tells me I’m a good girl. Doesn’t stop. He gropes me for a couple minutes, hugging me, and it feels like I’m suffocating.

Eventually he stops, patting my bare stomach and leaving his hand there. I’m dazed, and I sit there and watch the game, too stunned to get up and walk away. Ben draws lazy circles on my belly and guides me back so I’m resting against his chest. He presses his cheek to the side of my head and yawns.

And I sit there.

—•—

After that I don’t call Leia or keep searching for my phone. The rest of our honeymoon is fairly quiet and calm, full of museum visits and me avoiding swimming at all costs. I’ve been told to shut up and I find that when I shut up, Ben keeps his hands to himself. For the most part.

Some nights he slips a hand up my top while we’re in bed and gently plays with my breasts, but I figure it isn’t worth getting upset about. I lie quietly and close my eyes. This is my only way to stay in the country. It isn’t like he’s being mean about it, and if it’s the only way I can repay him…

But he isn’t going to be happy with that forever. He’s going to want more and I’m going to be expected and roll over and give it to him.

The night before we leave, I’m lying on my side turned away from Ben as he joins me in bed. My wide eyes search the darkness and I flinch when he touches my upper arm. He tugs, guiding me to my back. I hesitate, but turn and lie flat—and he kisses me.

It’s gentler than I thought. Ben kisses me twice before he deepens it, tongue tracing the seam of my lips and pushing through, and I huff an anxious breath. Like always, he ignores it, and his fingers wander between my thighs, this time under the hem of my panties. My stomach clenches and I push my legs together.

Ben rolls my lower lip through his teeth, kissing down my neck. He doesn’t say anything but pinches my thigh and roughly yanks them apart. His fingers return, knuckles stretching in my panties like he enjoys the way they feel on his skin. A whimper hitches in my throat as his thick middle finger traces my slit and teases my entrance, prodding but not penetrating. Testing.

He rolls my skin through his teeth, rougher than my lip, and skims two fingers up to tease my clit instead, working in a tight circle. His body shifts closer and I feel his cock against my hip, _almost_ like a threat that he’s going to use it on me. In me. I squirm under his touch, panting despite myself. My body betrays me and I think this is how it must feel to be in heat: out of control and terrified but _enjoying_ it somehow. I’m going to come like I did a couple days ago—I’m gonna come.

But Ben’s hand roams down, leaving me teetering on the edge, and he gently penetrates me with his middle finger.

I huff and grimace even though I’m wet. He keeps kissing my neck languidly as he pumps his finger up to the knuckle and draws back—and he adds his index finger, making me whine and squirm. It’s tight.

“Shh.” His breath chills the spots where his saliva lingers on my neck. “Open up a little bit, kitten. Little bit.” I widen my legs and he hums. “That’s it.”

Ben crooks his fingers and keeps thrusting them slowly in and out me. He’s touching something that feels good and my muscles tighten around his fingers, twitching as I gradually come to my peak again, until I’m bucking my hips and chirping softly. I haven’t done that in forever and I fucking _hate_ it.

But he doesn’t say anything. He kisses my lips when I come and my heavy breaths and whimpers are lost in his mouth, insides fluttering around his fingers. For a couple seconds it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, curling my toes with pleasure.

Then it’s over. Despite Ben’s fingers being buried inside me, I feel empty. Cold.

He withdraws them and gives me one more kiss on my jaw. Trembling, I just silently watch him roll on top of me and kneel between my thighs.

“You’re gonna make a pretty mommy some day, Rey,” he says, voice rough. He pushes down his pants a bit and my eyes widen when I see his cock. “Gonna knot up nice.”

I quickly look away and don’t spend time studying the fucking thing. Ben shamelessly sets to masturbating with the same hand he touched me with, pumping quick and hard to get himself off. He watches with me as he spills his load right between my legs on my panties, grunting his pleasure. It’s fairly fast like he wants to get it over with.

I’m left trembling and staring at the way his cock continues to drool cum after he’s through climaxing. Ben catches his breath and leans up on his knees. His cum is warm and seeping through my underwear.

“We’re gonna leave early in the mornin’.” He takes off my panties and uses them to clean off his hand. “Got some stuff to do when I get home.”

I nod, stunned to silence. He gets up and throws the panties out before going to the bathroom to wash his hands. I’m naked from the waist down and afraid to move, but afraid to stay in bed, too.

Ben is gone for a couple minutes. He returns with clean panties but doesn’t give me pants. I lie there while he pulls them on for me and kisses my cheek. He’s fully dressed.

“First week bein’ married, huh?” He gives me a lopsided charming smile and looms over me, kneeling between my thighs again. His dark eyes wander down my body and back up to my face. “You like havin’ a husband, don’t you?”

I nod and he nods. So far I fucking hate it.

My husband lies down beside me and positions my back to his chest. He falls asleep and I hope none of his cum got inside me.


	8. fear

Coming home to Ben’s farmhouse in Alabama is made even worse by a visit from immigration. Thankfully, Ben takes control of the situation while I play with my registration bracelet, and he leads the officer—Mitaka—out to the backyard to distract him. Mitaka is half Ben’s size and goes somewhat willingly.

I bring my suitcases up to my bedroom alone. I’m anxious about the visit and just leave my stuff in the hallway before I hurry back downstairs to meet Mitaka and make a good impression.

It’s sunny outside and Ben has him laughing at a joke and drinking a beer. He nods and takes a sip of his own, dark eyes flickering to mine through the glass door. He gives a subtle shake of his head and I take the hint, quickly making myself scarce. He has no reason to _want_ me arrested so I guess I have to trust that he has it under control.

I wander upstairs to my bedroom, which looks plain enough to be for a guest. I move my suitcases to Ben’s bedroom to give the impression we’re sharing it and do nothing but pace for the next hour or two, hoping he has it under control. He does. Ben is charming. I know that very well by now.

I’m probably waiting for two hours before I hear voices downstairs and the front door opening. I peer over the rail to see Mitaka waving as he walks out, Ben leaning on the door frame and lifting his bottle of beer in farewell. An engine starts. It’s over? After all these days of practicing and dreading the visit?

Ben whistles. “Come on out, kitten. Coast is clear.”

He turns to look up and shuts the door in the same motion, sipping his beer. He smiles when he sees me and raises his eyebrows.

“There’s my girl. You put all your clothes away?”

“It’s… it’s over?” I ask, hesitant.

“Sure is. He’ll be back in a couple weeks but I think I got a handle on it.” Ben locks the door. “You put your clothes away, baby?”

“Um… not yet. I will now.”

He nods, taking another swig of his beer. We’re alone now. I still haven’t found my phone, but I’m supposed to go get a new one sometimes this week.

“I’ll come help,” he says.

My pulse quickens—I don’t want his help; I’d prefer he stay _far_ away from me. But Ben lopes upstairs and meanders into his bedroom, me hesitantly trailing a couple steps behind him, hoping I can grab my suitcase and go. Now that the immigration officer is gone I can just move into my own space.

He sets his beer down and grabs my suitcase, then drops it at the end of his bed. He unzips it, back turned to me, and I wring my hands. Something feels weird in here. Smells weird. Not bad, but…

“You can take a shower if you want,” Ben calls. “Might feel better after. Long flight.”

“I can put my clothes away—in the other room, right?”

He empties the entire suitcase out on his bed, tipping it upside down and dropping the thing to the floor with a loud bang. I jump, heart skipping a beat, and decide I’ll go take a shower.

I only have the clothes I’m wearing so I decide I’ll just wear them again when I’m done. I skitter across the hall and shut the door behind me, making sure to turn the lock, and brush my teeth while I wait for the shower to heat up. I open the medicine cabinet to check for my emergency stash of suppressants and not only do I not see it: there’s an empty bottle.

It’s not my suppressants. I curiously pick it up to read the label but it’s been torn off with only “-OLIDE” visible at the edge. Must be Ben’s.

It takes me ten minutes to shower, record time because I’m afraid he might walk in on me. I do feel better when I’m done and shuffle back to the bedroom to see how far along Ben is. I’d _really_ prefer my own space.

When I come to the bedroom door, I see him still standing over the bed sorting through my clothes. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off his tattoo and makes his arms look even bigger.

“Hey Ben?” I ask timidly. “My second sleeve of suppressants is missing. I still have some but I get nervous if I don’t have—”

“Do you need ‘em that bad? Should be okay long as you aren’t hangin’ around Alphas, right?”

“…Well—”

He looks over his shoulder at me and laughs. “Look at you! ‘Bout to freeze to death.” Ben snaps his fingers and beckons me. “C’mere and I’ll put somethin’ warm on you.”

My throat feels dry. I rub it, hesitating at Ben’s charming smile, and the way he raises his eyebrows tells me to hurry up. I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to obey him, like the consequences will be _severe._ Not just him telling immigration this is a green card marriage but… something else.

“I just might go into a cycle if I’m near an Alpha,” I explain. “And um… y’know.”

“Nah, you’ll be alright. Ain’t gonna go far from the house anyway.”

He casually strips me like he did in the fitting room in Virginia Beach. I tremble and roll my tongue in my mouth, confused by how parched I am, and absentmindedly scratch my throat. Feels like hives. Maybe he’s using a new cologne?

Ben kneels, hooking his thumbs over the hem of my panties. His breath is warm on my stomach and he gently plants a kiss above my belly button that makes my belly flip flop. Blushing, I clear my throat.

“Um…” I rasp. “I think I should… maybe go see a doctor.”

He slips my underwear down my hips and lets them drop to the floor. I swallow, suddenly stricken by a wave of dizziness that makes me grab his shoulder for support. Woah—what the—

Ben sighs. His warm breath travels lower along a trail of kisses and I stiffen when I realize what he’s going to do. I shift on my tiptoes and try to politely move away but he grabs my hips and digs in his fingertips. The tip of his nose tickles my lower stomach and I tangle my fingers in his hair at the first wet touch of his tongue.

“You’re alright,” he whispers. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh. “You’re alright.”

His mouth moves between my thighs and I bite my tongue. It’s a weird sensation: _wet_ and kind of forceful and invasive, but as I’m beginning to learn, my body is all electrical signals and hormones that don’t care about what I’m thinking or feeling. Ben groans and licks, squeezing my hips to encourage me to move them—and I try not to make a sound.

It feels good. It all feels good, technically. He isn’t biting me or hurting me and when his soft lips roam up to my clit I can’t help a breathy gasp. Fingers tighten in his hair to push him closer and he’s all too willing to do it, and I arch on my tiptoes, head spinning. Something cramps in my lower belly and I whimper and buck my hips. Fuck. It _does_ feel good but he didn’t even ask; he never asks—

Ben stops, and I teeter on my heels. He licks his lips and stares at my cunt as he sucks a finger in his mouth, and I notice a weird sticky sensation on my inner thighs.

He squeezes my hip as he gently pushes his middle finger inside me, shushing my sharp breath. I’m dizzy and confused and kind of want to lie down but just wait as he moves inside me. Another cramp tightens around his finger and this time there’s an unmistakable warm trickle of fluid.

Ben takes a shuddering breath and kisses my stomach. “There she is. That’s my good girl.”

Not pee—it’s slick.

Fear overwhelms everything else. Slick means I’m cycling and cycling means I need an Alpha. I don’t want one. I don’t want any of this.

I push him, squirming away. “Ben—I need—I need my suppressants.”

He sucks off his finger, watching me through his hooded dark eyes as he slowly stands. Shadows roam across his chest in the low afternoon sun and he reaches down to unbuckle his belt.

“C’mere, kitten,” he says, voice rough. “I wanna show you somethin’.”

Fear blooms into terror. I shake my head, shrinking away from him, but he just clicks his tongue like he’s calling a cat and advances. No. No. No, no, no.

I cower against the wall but don’t resist when he gently takes my forearm. Something tells me not to; tells me to shut up even if I want to run. Not immigration. Not the fear that he won’t stop when I tell him to. Something else crawls beneath my skin and rings in my ears and turns my stomach.

Ben smiles, lewdly licking his lips. His belt clinks but I don’t look down, staring up at him in terror.

“I need—I need—” I stammer.

“Shh, shh.” He cups my jaw in one big hand and I’m trapped in his dark eyes. “I know what you need.”

The doorbell rings.

I finally let out the breath I’m holding. Ben narrows his eyes and looks toward the bedroom door, jaw clenching, then he reluctantly lets me go. Thank god. Thank _god._ Someone must be here to check on us.

My husband heaves a sigh. He strides to the dresser and picks out a baggy sweatshirt and flannel pants, and while he’s dressing me the doorbell rings again.

“Christ.” He huffs and kisses my forehead. “Sorry, kitten. Don’t mean to curse.”

I’m still trembling violently and slick is gradually sliding down my thighs. If I don’t get my suppressants soon I can’t stave off the heat and I’m fucking screwed.

My lower lip quivers. “Ben… my pills?”

“You wanna lie down for me? Get comfy. I’ll be right back.”

No. No. I shake my head but he’s already leaving the room, buckling his pants and groaning when the doorbell rings again. _Lie down_.

I’m nauseous and scared shitless because it’s so obvious what’s happening. My gland itches under my jaw and I can taste him on the roof of my mouth, thick and spicy and woodsy, and I know—but I don’t want it to be true.

Shivering, I cross my arms and wander out of the bedroom to the landing, just to see who’s visiting. Maybe they can distract him for a while.

“Don’t you know how to call your mother?”

I dart to the railing as Leia steps inside, scowling up at Ben. She’s dressed up as always and a very happy sight. He doesn’t close the door but rolls his eyes and says something to her, and before I can get a word out, her eyes wander up to where I’m standing.

Tears well up. I wave, ready to cry. Help me. Please.

Leia tilts her head. She stares at me but doesn’t smile or gasp or react at all. Her cold eyes search my face, then sweep down my outfit.

“Is she ready?” she asks. She’s still staring at me.

Ben leans on the edge of the door and nods, rubbing his eyes. “Just gettin’ there, mama. Got gotta _call_ first. Can’t just drop by unannounced.”

Ice prickles down my spine. Ready?

Leia rolls her eyes and looks up at her son, one eyebrow raised.

“Fine. Call me when it’s done.”

Ben casts me a glance. I’m frozen to the spot, blankly watching them have a horrifying conversation and hoping I’m having a nightmare. She told me he wasn’t an Alpha. She said he was _nice_. I trusted her—I thought she loved me—

My husband nods, gaze lingering on me.

“Rey’s a good girl.” He smiles and winks. “Ain’t you a good girl, kitten?”

Leia looks and I’m pinned under the weight of two Alphas staring at me. I teeter a step back, tears already streaming down my face, slowly shaking my head. No. No. This is a nightmare. This can’t be real.

Ben pouts his lower lip. “No? You gonna be a naughty girl now?”

“Good fucking god, Ben,” Leia snaps, “save it for when I’m gone.” She waves him off and shakes her head. “Don’t forget: if you don’t claim this one you’re going to have to go back to prison.”

He keeps watching me slowly backing away, smirking. His tongue roams inside his mouth.

“Don’t worry,” he assures her as she steps out. “I’m takin’ this one.”

I stumble a couple steps, chest tight, throat constricting. Ben laughs at something Leia says as I race down the hall to the bathroom to hide—because at least the door locks—and my hand slips on the handle. I’m crying but hardly aware of it, too terrified to get a handle on my hysterical heaving sobs.

I’m too upset to process the gravity of the situation. I sink to the bathroom floor and cry instead; I don’t know how long I’m there but—

Then the floor creaks outside.

My sobbing stops in an instant. Sniffling, I stare at the door, afraid Ben will break it down, but it’s quiet for a long minute. My heart pounds in my ears.

“You okay, baby?”

I breathe faster, eyes wide. I think I must look like a cat cowering in a corner.

Ben sighs and taps the door.

“Alright. I’ll give you a little while in there to calm down, okay?” He taps lightly. “I’ll make you somethin’ nice for dinner if you come out on your own.”

The floor creaks again, and I think he’s gone. I cover my face and hyperventilate until I’m too dizzy to sit up, then I crawl in the bathtub and curl into a ball.

I’m never coming out.


	9. anxiety

Time crawls by while I’m locked in the bathroom. Night falls and I hear Ben moving around downstairs, but every minute feels like an hour. I stay curled up in the bathtub trembling and hoping I’m having a bad dream, because this can’t possibly be real.

Every once in a while I’ll cry thinking about Rose and Leia and how long this charade has been going on. Are the other girls all lambs being led to slaughter, too? Were we all meant for Ben to _choose_ from? Is Rose going to be safe?

I can’t bear the thought of Rose being hurt. Can’t bear it. Can’t stand thinking about any of the other Omegas being hurt or—

The floor creaks.

My heart leaps in my throat and I freeze mid-sniffle. Soft whistling floats through the door, followed by the grating sound of a key in the lock.

“Made you dinner anyway. I know y’like homemade mac and cheese.”

His voice makes my lower lip quiver and I slowly shake my head, shrinking into the tub.

The lock clicks, the door opens, and Ben casually steps into the bathroom with a smile on his face. It fades when I burst into tears, shaking my head faster, wedging myself into the corner of the tub. Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.

He pouts, furrowing his brow. His shadow eclipses me.

“Come on, kitten,” he soothes, “you don’t gotta cry. Aren’t you hungry?”

Now I can taste the Alpha in the room and on his clothes he dressed me in, and it’s sending me into a hysterical tailspin. He told his mother he’s going to _keep me_. I don’t want a mate. He knows I don’t. He’s going to force me into it.

But even worse: I’m having cramps and small trickles of slick are running down my thighs, which means I’m not too far from going into heat. I can’t stop it without my suppressants and I have no idea where they are. I’m so fucking screwed. All I can taste is the thick prickle of Alpha on my tongue, suffocating me, twisting up fear and arousal into a foreign, terrifying emotion.

Ben watches me for a minute. He slips his hands in his pockets and tilts his head, heaving a sigh that trails off into soft clicking of his tongue. I stare up at him and cower and debate making a run for it—but he’s twice my size and if he spills that our marriage is a sham, I’m going to go to prison. I cry and cry and he doesn’t react to it. Just watches silently.

After a while my sobbing lapses into sniffles. My head swims. Maybe I should just run for it and risk going to prison. Prison might be better.

He smiles, raising his eyebrows.

“All done? All cried out?”

I shake my head and his smile widens. He laughs, like I’m teasing him; like this is a fucking joke. It’s somehow extra upsetting that he’s just waiting around for me to tire myself out like a kid throwing a temper tantrum.

“Well you can’t stay in the tub forever,” he teases. He nods toward the door. “Let’s go eat dinner. Been a very long day.”

“You’re an Alpha?” I ask feebly, even though I know the answer.

“Come on—you should eat somethin’.”

The way he offhandedly ignores my questions just makes me feel worse. I’m too scared and exhausted to resist when he picks me up, one arm under my knees and the other around my back, and carries me from the bathroom.

Downstairs in the kitchen I see he has a pressure cooker out and the table already set for two. Ben carefully sets me in a chair and drapes a heavy blanket around my shoulders, making me droop and shiver as I watch him go to the Crockpot. Look at me. Sitting here, waiting. I should run.

But it’s dark out and I’m in rural Alabama. Where the hell will I go?

His broad back faces me as he scoops dinner out on plates, whistling, and I glance at the sliding glass door. I guess running and dying is better than being mates against my will and trapped in Alabama. What do I have to lose? Even _prison_ would be better.

“We can watch a movie after dinner if y’want.”

He’s looking at me now, dark eyes narrowed and calculating. Ben smiles at my blank stare.

He picks up the plates. “I don’t want you watchin’ anything too scary, though. Not good for your head—you’ll be up having nightmares.”

My gaze flickers to the glass doors again. He sets a steaming plate in front of me that admittedly smells as good as it looks, sets his down, and I’m stricken with terror. I’m going to be _mated_. I have to get the fuck out of here.

I bolt.

My chair clatters to the floor as I make a break for the front door, heart racing, bare feet slapping on hardwood. I’m expecting Ben to come charging after me but don’t hear his footfalls or even him yelling at me to stop. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe—

“Rey.”

His deep voice comes clear across the house and I’m frozen with my hand on the door. A shiver runs down my spine, twisting in my stomach and wringing out more cramps—and I realize with an appropriate dose of terror that he’s using _the voice_ on me.

And I can’t move.

I stare at my hand trembling on the handle, sweat beading on my forehead. No matter how much I try to move my fingers they won’t budge, and I’m nauseous just thinking of trying to run out the door. But I don’t want to stay here. I know what’s going to happen; what kind of life I have to look forward to.

Tears well up all over again. I struggle to grip the handle, managing an inch, clammy fingers squeezing. I’m going to throw up.

Ben whistles. It echoes through the quiet house and makes me flinch.

“C’mere, kitten,” he calls, softer. “Not safe out there for you.”

“It isn’t safe _here_ ,” I rasp.

I’m surprised I can talk at all under the lingering influence of the ‘Alpha voice,’ that horrible inflection that goes straight to an Omega’s bones and stops them in their tracks. It aches. Makes me nauseous. They only do it when you’re disobedient, and I naturally aim to obey, even when I hate it.

Ben sighs. His voice deepens when he speaks again, hooking into my skin.

“Come eat your dinner, Rey.”

It’s not like he’s dragging me away from the door but he might as well be. I wince, hoping I might get a flicker of clarity that lets me open the door and run—and hear his chair scrape on the floor.

“I won’t say it again.”

“ _Fuck you_!” I spit, then gasp, pained by it.

He lumbers from the kitchen, unhurried in his approach. I’m nauseous and break down into sobs when he pries my hand off the door, but I’m helpless, rooted to the spot by his fucking _voice_.

Ben brushes his fingertips along my nape. Goosebumps prickle down my arms.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, encircling it entirely. “So overtired.”

I don’t say anything. I hyperventilate as he kisses the side of my head and gently guides me from the door, back to the kitchen table where my dinner is still steaming hot. Trembling, I take my seat, and Ben waits until I take a bite before he sits across from me.

I’m terrified and angry but still manage to eat most of what he’s given me. I don’t think it’s drugged or anything—he doesn’t _need_ to drug me, especially with my heat looming on the horizon. But who knows? I clearly don’t know what he’s capable of.

Ben watches me, smiling when I glance up from my plate. I avert my eyes.

“Taste good?”

I shrug, examining the scraps on my plate. I’ve never even met an Alpha; they’re usually not allowed around Omegas. Leia certainly wouldn’t have allowed it. But she was just saving me for one in particular.

“How are you feelin’?”

I shrug again, sniffling.

“You smell nice. Sweet.” He inhales, and I clench my jaw. “Taste sweet, too.”

“I want to go home,” I say in a shaky voice. “I want my phone and my pills—I want to go home.”

“Shouldn’t be much longer, but it’s been a while since I last went through a rut. Parole officer makes me take these pills—but once I take you I won’t have to take ‘em anymore.” He sighs. “That’ll be nice. Fucks up my sex drive.”

“Please—I’ve worked so hard—”

Ben stands and picks up our plates. I’m determined not to cry again but cross my arms, frustrated and scared. He’s just ignoring me again. Does he feel guilty? Is ignoring me just shutting it out?

He washes off the plates and silverware and puts it in the dishwasher while I glare at the table and grit my teeth. I’ll wait until he’s asleep, then run. He has to sleep eventually. I’ll find a way home to Rose before it’s too late for her and we can… we can go somewhere. Our registration bracelets don’t mean anything if there’s no one around to see them.

A painful cramp scatters my thoughts of escape. I groan, doubling over and clutching my stomach, trying to ignore the stickiness on my inner thighs. Can’t run away without my suppressants.

I grimace, waiting for it to pass, when I feel a warm hand on my back. My chest gets tight.

“You’ve never been through a heat, huh?” He rubs in a circle, then pats between my shoulder blades. “No worries, kitten. I’ll take good care of you.”

“I don’t want to,” I breathe, shaking my head. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

Ben scoops me up bridal style, and I curl in on myself as the cramps intensify. He carries me upstairs through the dark house, down the hallway to his bedroom.

I can see my life materializing in the shadows: five or six kids all born barely a year apart chasing each other, laughing and crying and swarming around me, Ben probably nowhere to be seen. Alphas don’t usually involve themselves in child-rearing and I’m sure in a traditional town like this he won’t be any different. He’ll be out all day and come home expecting me to be willing to fuck him, have dinner made, and the brood washed.

I see fleeting images of the fights we’ll have and how much harder it will get to escape each time another baby is born; how isolated and terrified I’ll be out here. I think he’ll _never_ acknowledge what I’m saying. I’m a captive; a breeding receptacle for a prototypical Alpha who wants a prototypical Omega.

My skin crawls as Ben places me delicately in his bed and pulls his shirt off over his head. The sheets crinkle under my back; there must be a protector to absorb the slick. He smiles, and the moonlight cuts jagged black edges along his dimples.

“What d’you look so scared for?” he teases, laughing. His hands go to his belt and so does my gaze. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I lick my lips, eyes steadily widening, and quickly roll over to run away. I want to own my own business—I want to be independent and _free_ and—

“Rey.”

My muscles lock up. I’m left frozen on my stomach, eyes still wide and staring as the bed creaks from Ben’s weight. My fingers twitch. Fuck. The voice again—the voice again—I can’t move.

I’m gently rolled on my back once more, still locked up. He’s straddling my legs, smiling as he pulls down the sweatpants he put me in.

“Not gonna need these. Gonna get messy.” He tosses them off the bed, and my eyes roam down his bare chest. Still wearing his briefs. Good. That’s good. “Pad should keep things pretty clean, though.”

Ben takes off my shirt next. I shiver in the cold, watching as he leans over to take something out of the nightstand.

Metal jangles. I catch a glint of a round edge and stiffen when I see he’s holding handcuffs, already murmuring empty platitudes. One cuff snaps open.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, “it’s okay.”

“No— _no—_!”

Ben seizes a wrist and slaps the cuff around it. My heart leaps in my throat and I manage a strangled scream before he snaps the second cuff around one of the headboard’s iron bars.

I yank desperately, writhing underneath him in mortal terror. No, no, no. No— _no_ —

Ben brushes a big hand over my forehead and cups my cheek. “I know. Just don’t want you runnin’ off and gettin’ hurt, kitten.”

“Let me go!” I shriek. I pull harder, twisting on my stomach. “Let me _go_!”

His voice dips when he speaks and I feel him nuzzling the back of my head. I jerk as his fingertip traces my rib, lackadaisical.

“It’s okay,” he repeats softly, “I won’t hurt you. I’d rather wait ‘til you’re begging me for it—like that cute little whimperin’. Desperation.” He heaves a sigh into my hair and I squeeze my eyes shut. “And I don’t think I’m gonna have to wait very long.”

His weight moves. I don’t budge as Ben lies down beside me and pulls a quilt over us, but I bite back tears when he gathers me to his chest.

I’m not desperate. I’m not desperate. I swallow and repeat my mantra, ignoring the worsening cramps. I’m not desperate. I’m not desperate.


	10. terror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i extended this a little not sure tbh

“Rey. Kitten.”

My eyes are heavy and hard to open. Sunlight blinds me for a second and I groan, rolling in bed until the handcuff stops me with a sharp bite into my wrist. I feel terrible. My thighs are sticky and I’m _exhausted_ —I just want to go back to sleep.

Rough fingertips trail my inner thigh and that scatters my wishful thinking about sleep. I squirm and blink hard and make out the shape of Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me over his shoulder. He smiles and my stomach twists in knots. I’m naked, still handcuffed to the bed and very vulnerable.

But heat hasn’t completely overtaken me yet. I’m still aware. That’s good.

His dark eyes roam down to where his hand is curled around my thigh. I hardly dare to breathe, then his fingers creep upwards and I whimper.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.

I twist my hips away but the sting from the handcuff stops me cold. Pain is amplified during heat. My skin is sensitive like I’m coming down with something and the cold handcuff is a unique type of torture. I squirm and nearly break down into sobs.

“Take it off,” I plead. “Take it off.”

Ben frowns and instead of torturing me like I assumed, gets up to get the key. He’s dressed in his usual flannel and jeans and the enticing scent of breakfast wafts from downstairs when he comes back. Already awake and ready.

He unlocks my wrist and I curl into a shivering ball, cradling it to my chest, maybe worse off than I thought. I’m aching between my legs and the pad on the mattress makes an uncomfortable crinkling that makes me feel even more like a captive animal. The registration bracelet is heavy and freezing cold. I want to go home. I want my pills.

To my continued surprise, Ben fans the blanket across me instead of pouncing. He brushes my hair from my face and I stare at him, trembling.

“All oversensitive, huh?” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Lotsa hormones.”

I don’t reply. I don’t know what to say. His pheromones are stronger than before, like nothing I’ve ever tasted, and I feel like I shouldn’t say anything at all. Just be quiet and hope he goes away.

Ben kisses my forehead and does just that. I lift my head to watch him leave the room and fight the urge to make a break for it and flee the house. What’s worse: being picked up by an Alpha I don’t know, or staying here and trying to convince Ben that what he’s doing is wrong?

I’m uncomfortable from the slick on my thighs and decide to get out of bed and wash off. On the landing I hear Ben whistling downstairs and hurry into the bathroom.

Shivering, I turn on the hot water and wait a minute or two before I step in under the spray. It stings somewhat but I’m happy to wash off the slick, and bite my lower lip as I clean between my legs, trying to avoid any stimulation. It still tingles and curls in my stomach; makes my legs quiver. I don’t have much time before it’s out of control.

Then I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I brush my teeth when I’m done and shuffle out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my shoulders. When I turn, Ben is already coming out of the bedroom, frowning.

“Jesus, Rey. You’re gonna freeze.”

He gently guides me to the dresser by my elbow. Breakfast is waiting on a tray on the nightstand and it looks like he’s changed the sheets. That’s good.

I’m dressed in another one of his flannel shirts followed by a thick hoodie. Cramps make me shift anxiously from foot to foot but Ben opens another drawer and holds out a pair of high-waisted black underwear. Seems pointless.

“So you don’t have to be sticky the whole time.” He smiles and crouches. “Absorbs the slick. You’ll probably have to change ‘em once or twice a day but… thought it might be more comfortable.”

“…Oh. Thanks.”

Ben holds them open and I step into them, grasping his shoulder so he can pull them up my legs. They feel like boy shorts and the material is soft and cool, relieving some of the pressure mounting between my thighs. I’ve heard of the underwear in passing but never considered buying them. Expensive. And I’ve never had to worry about slick.

He helps me into a pair of sweatpants and laughs as he rolls them up so I can walk.

“Guess you could wear your own clothes, huh?” He pats my calf, smiling. “But I like how you look in mine.”

I don’t say anything, just avert my eyes when he stands. I’m not sure what to say yet. I’m confused now, emotions muddled by heat and his bizarre good cop bad cop routine and gentle, but firm insistence that I do what he wants.

Ben leads me to the bed and sits beside me on the edge of it. He made me scrambled eggs and bacon with a cup of strawberries and blueberries, and opened the window so a nice breeze is coming in. But I’m still a prisoner, even if the cell doesn’t seem too bad at the moment.

I nibble a piece of bacon he offers. Can’t get too comfortable. Have to remember he’s an asshole. 

I clear my throat but my voice still rasps. “What were you arrested for? Since I’m sure you lied.”

“Aww… we don’t need to talk about that stuff over breakfast, kitten. Not proper.”

So he _did_ lie. Ben offers me the bowl of fruit and I grudgingly pick from it.

“I’m just wondering what kind of man kidnaps women and forces them into heat,” I snip.

“Now, now. None of that.”

“None of _what_? I’m stating the fucking facts. You and your mother—you manipulated me and now you’re holding me captive!”

“ _Rey_ —”

I slap the bowl away. It doesn’t drop but Ben narrowly catches it, and he’s promptly on his feet when I stand up. He can’t do this to me. He can’t keep blowing me off and acting like I’m the crazy one here.

“I want to go home,” I demand, anxiously wringing my hands, shaking my head. “You can’t do this to me.”

“Shh, shh.” He brushes my elbow. “Come finish your breakfast. You gotta be all kinds of hungry, and it’s gonna make you all confused.”

Fury sparks in my gut faster than I can blink and races up my arm. I whirl around to slap Ben across the face but he catches my wrist in midair, eyebrows raised and lips set in a tight line. Fuck. I swallow and struggle to escape, stumbling back a couple steps. Ben holds firm, which just whips up my terror. He shushes me when I whimper and after I give another frantic yank, it makes me stagger back and fling myself into the wall—hard.

He swears. “Christ—you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Get away from me!” I hiss, cowering against the wall. “Get away from me!”

“Rey, baby. Relax. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Hands reach out and I hiss and lash out, agitated and uncomfortable. I’m not confused; I’m not hungry. He’s not going to trick me.

Ben seizes my forearm. His grip is tight and makes my sensitive skin burn, but my whines go unheeded. He yanks me to his chest and threads his thick fingers in my hair, forcing me to look up at him. I struggle to get my wrist free but it’s no use.

“Relax,” he coos, suppressing another jerk from me. “ _Relax._ I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Let me _go_ —!”

I snap at his hand and Ben grabs my jaw in the blink of an eye, fingers pressing along my throat in a menacing way. He squeezes until I lapse into whimpers and go limp. Hurts. Hurts.

“Relax,” he repeats, throwing some weight behind it. He raises his eyebrows. “I don’t wanna punish you during your cycle but I will if you don’t relax and behave like a good girl. Understood?”

I nod quickly. Yes—ow, ow, _ow_.

Ben releases and heaves a sigh when my eyes water. I can’t help it. I don’t think I can control it.

He leads me back to the bed and props me upright with the tray in my lap. I stare at the food for a long minute, sniffling to hold back tears, but Ben gives me a look and hands me my fork and I start eating. Why does my skin hurt so fucking much?

His gaze roams to the window. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you can’t ignore what I say. I’m tryin’ to make this easier for you.”

The eggs taste like ash in my mouth. I chew slowly and push them around on my plate.

I’m given a while to eat the rest of my breakfast and Ben is pleased with what I manage to keep down. I’m the least hungry I’ve ever been, partially because I’m not on my suppressants but mostly because I’m terrified and angry. He takes my plate and kisses the side of my head before he leaves the room.

Convincing him is a dead-end. I have to get out of here—I have to call Rose. But how?

Trembling, I climb out of bed and make my way out to the landing. The television is on some home redecorating show and at the bottom of the stairs I see Ben rinsing dishes in the kitchen. I fold my arms as I wander around the living room, wincing when the floor creaks, and sweep through the dining room for good measure. A lot of it is still under construction.

Dust swirls around my bare feet as I carefully make my way over two by fours and skirt nails. Maybe he would hide it here. I’m sure he assumes a dainty Omega will stay away from—

“What’re you doin’?”

I spin and see him looming in the open doorframe with an irritated scowl. Ben shakes his head and approaches without any of my hesitation, then sweeps me up bridal style.

“You should be in bed,” he says gruffly.

“I was looking for my phone,” I rasp. “So I can call Rose. I miss her.”

“She’s busy.”

Busy? I frown as he sets me on the couch like I might shatter. What’s she busy with?

“Is something wrong?” I press.

Ben sits next to me and shrugs, avoiding my eyes. It just makes me more suspicious and anxious. What if the same thing that’s happening to me is happening to her right now?

He props a boot on the coffee table and changes the channel to Disney. “You’re all banged up from foolin’ around earlier. Don’t want any of that nonsense anymore, alright?”

“Is Rose okay?” I ask, ignoring him fanning a blanket over us.

“She’s fine. Just busy.”

“What does that mean, busy? Busy with what?”

Ben hangs an arm around my shoulders and ignores me, gently pushing me in to his ribs. Fear melds with grief and I burst into tears.

“Is she okay?” I repeat, clutching his shirt. “Please—I love her so much—”

“She’s busy, Rey.”

“I don’t know what that _means_ —” I’m sobbing shamelessly now, hoping he hates the sound like every other Alpha does. “Please, I just want to hear her voice.”

My entire plan of escape hinges on her, and I love her and can’t bear to think of her suffering or in pain. My emotions are haywire again, violently catapulting toward hysteria and a sinkhole of despair I can’t escape. My best friend is hurt; I can’t bear to think of it but I have to know.

Ben just ignores me for a couple more minutes while I fall to pieces. His jaw clenches and he kisses my head, offering silent condolences but clearly not falling for my hysterics. I fucking hate him. He’s just trying to keep me off-balance and confused. He’s holding her over my head.

Then I’m too exhausted to cry anymore, and I slump under his arm, sniffling, cramps steadily increasing. I think his silence speaks volumes. I think Rose is ‘busy’ the way _I’m_ ‘busy’ and he knows I’ll really lose it if he tells me the truth.

Ben pats my arm. “I know. I’m sorry, kitten. Girls get busy when they grow up and settle down.”

Turns out I still have some tears left.


	11. tenuous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends please check my carrd in my profile for info about sneak peeks and deleted content !!!

After the movie ends Ben goes to mow the lawn, leaving me sitting alone on the couch. I stare at the blank television as the mower growls in the distance and the smell of fresh cut grass wafts through the windows. My hands tremble in my lap.

I think prison is better than this. Even if I’m deported, living with coddling and safety nets is better than being someone’s pet. Going to jail for defrauding the government is better than this. I’ll go for a couple years, maybe—or just be deported—and it will all be over. I can start again. _Try_ again.

And if Leia is doing this to the other Omega girls, maybe I can help stop her. That would be good.

It’s still dangerous for me to go outside in my state, so I shuffle upstairs to take another shower and change my absorbent underwear. I’m only hoping to conceal my scent long enough to find a police officer or a phone to call immigration and turn myself in. They’ll give me emergency suppressants. I think.

I paw through the dresser in search of pants instead of a dress, but Ben already made it clear that he prefers me in the latter so I don’t have much hope. My hands shake while I dig, throat dry, cramps making me grit my teeth. Just need to—

“You take another shower, kitten?”

I jump, startled by Ben’s voice so close. He raises his eyebrows, casually pulling his shirt off and throwing it in the hamper a couple feet away, smiling at me. I stare for a long minute before I peel my eyes away from his very sweaty broad chest.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“It’s fine. I’m not mad or nothin’.”

He saunters over and I stiffen, gluing my eyes to the drawer full of dresses. I’m not sure if I should let him _know_ my intentions or if I should wait, but I’m running out of time.

Ben picks out a pink dress and closes the drawer. I stand there, not daring to move while he finds something clean to wear, too.

“Gonna have a couple people over next week,” he says. “Not appropriate when you’re in this state but they wanna meet you.”

He slams the drawer shut hard enough to make me jump and takes my upper arm. I’m pulled to the bathroom, and when I resist, he gives me an unnerving frown.

I glance toward the stairs. “I can wait out here.”

“Aww. Don’t be shy.” Ben yanks me to his chest, smiling again. My heart skips a beat. “Maybe after I’m all washed up I can show you a couple things.”

“Really, I don’t mind—”

He pulls me inside without another word, and I’m not in a position to refuse. I cross my arms as he shuts the door and places the clothes on the counter.

Ben turns the lock. “The other ladies can show you how things work around here, too. I think you’ll like ‘em. Nice girls.”

He starts stripping me without asking and I whirl around to slap his hand, recoiling. He laughs—like it’s _funny_ —and roughly seizes the front of my shirt to pull me closer; not choking or anything but definitely annoyed, even if his face doesn’t show it.

I grab his big hand clenching my shirt in both of mine, scowling up at him. He smells good. Grass and water.

“I only want to see _Rose_ ,” I hiss, “not your fucking friends.”

“Hey, none of those foul words.” Ben shoves me into the edge of the counter, looming, dark eyes searching my face. He’s still smiling. “You know I don’t like when you curse, Rey. Have some manners.”

“Fuck you.”

He seizes my jaw in one hand, eyebrows raising. I breathe hard through my nose but keep glaring, even when he starts squeezing.

But Ben’s anger passes in another blink of an eye. He breaks into another smirk and laughs, letting go, shaking his head. He pries my hands out of the way and makes short work of my clothes. I bite my lower lip and try not to let my embarrassment show.

“Sheriff is gonna stop by, too,” Ben says, washing his hands. “Snoke. Told him to keep an eye out in case you wander off without me and get in trouble.”

 _Fuck_ , he’s friends with the fucking sheriff. I just nod, covering my chest as best I can and averting my eyes while Ben takes off his clothes. Son of a bitch. My only hope is the immigration officer stopping by again and that won’t be until after Ben does the mating bite.

The shower starts and I keep my eyes on the ceiling. What the hell am I going to do? I have no phone to call for help, if I run to the cops they’ll bring me right back, and I can’t really run because I risk being picked up by a different Alpha. Rose was my only real hope for escape and I suspect she’s been sold off, too.

So what the hell am I going to do?

Ben holds open the shower curtain and offers his hand. I hesitate, so he grabs my wrist and pulls me close to lift me up into the tub.

I shiver under the water, eyes wide and arms crossed, and Ben steps in behind me. The curtain rattles closed and he wraps his arms around my middle from behind, fingers already wandering between my legs. I stumble and squirm until I feel his cock against the small of my back—then I freeze.

“Seems like you’re feelin’ a little better,” he whispers in my ear. He gently circles my clit, shushing my whimpers. “Aww, don’t try those crocodile tears with me, kitten.”

He promptly pushes his middle finger inside me, big body caging around mine when I struggle. Another finger penetrates and I squeeze my eyes shut. It doesn’t hurt; not with the slick, but I hate how easily he can violate my body. It’s humiliating, and when he soothes me with cooing and praise I feel even _worse_.

“Look what a good girl you are.” Ben breathes on my hair as his fingers withdraw slowly and tenderly push back inside up to the knuckle. “Not too much. Hate when girls make a lot of slick, but you got just the right amount for me.”

Water cascades to the floor around us, Ben’s broad back keeping me mostly dry. I choke at his fingers moving inside me and let my head droop. It feels good. Thick and satisfying. Right. My lower belly tightens and I tighten around him in turn, drawing a deep rumbling groan that gives me butterflies.

“ _That’s_ it. Feels good, doesn’t it?” I shake my head and he puffs a laugh on my nape, layering kisses there. “Sure seems like it feels good.”

I’m pretty sure Ben isn’t it rut yet but that isn’t stopping him. He keeps thrusting his fingers with the same deliberate slowness and soon I’m squirming against his hand, hot and dizzy and confused. I’m not losing my mind the way I thought I would but losing it all the same, arching on my tiptoes and whining until he adds a third finger, feverishly fucking myself on his fingers. He gives me a soft bite on the crook of my neck, growling.

I cling to his arm wrapped around my chest. My eyes flicker back in my head and I moan, toes curling on the wet floor of the tub as I climax without much warning. Ben bites a little harder but doesn’t do _the bite_ , and I’m uncomfortably disappointed.

He kisses my temple and withdraws his fingers, sighing. I’m trembling.

“Rut might not happen this time around.” He turns to wash himself but I stay staring at the wall, nauseous. “Could take a while for all my hormones to work right again, so looks like we ain’t gonna be able to mate this cycle.”

He pinches my ass and I spin around to him smirking. His eyes sweep down my chest and back up to my eyes, then he resumes washing his hair. I don’t move.

“Nervous?” he drawls.

I don’t answer. I don’t want to. I’m mortified that I had an orgasm and even more mortified that it took less than a minute. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction—because I know my being complicit in all of this is extremely important to him.

Ben finishes washing his hair and body and shuts off the water. He gets out and lifts me out under my armpits, and I’m set down in front of the counter.

There’s a bit of hope. I cling to it while he dries me off and helps me into my absorbent panties and pink dress, because now I have some time before I’m permanently tethered to him and there’s truly no escape. If the immigration officer comes again… all I have to do is keep pretending that jail is worse than this, and Ben won’t suspect a thing.

But it won’t be a clean getaway. I’m going to sacrifice a couple things along the road to ‘freedom’.

He cups my jaw and kisses me gently enough that I’m lost in it for a few seconds. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad living here. Maybe it’s where I’m meant to be.

Then he stops and common sense comes screaming back: _no_ , I don’t want a mate, or kids, or this lifestyle. There isn’t anything wrong with it but I want something else and I don’t want an Alpha calling all the shots and telling me what to do.

Ben leads me to the bedroom. He closes the door and I stand by the hamper hoping he’s going to put off this part until his rut starts, but—

“Want me to take you on your back or your belly?”

An icicle jolts through my chest and takes my breath. I sense him ambling up beside me and close my eyes when he brushes my hair behind my ear.

He kisses my temple and lowers his voice. “Haven’t made us a nest or nothin’, so we’ve only got one option.” His breath is warm. Minty. “I told mama those pills would mess you up, but she insisted. Now my poor little Rey doesn’t know how to make her Alpha a _nest_. Bet that’s why you’re so emotional.”

My first instinct is to slap him for calling me ‘emotional’ again, but I get a better idea to prolong him bending me over and fucking me.

“I—I’d prefer to make a… nest.” I grit the word out, cringing. “Please.”

“You can make one next cycle,” he murmurs. “The other Omegas can show you how.”

I turn on him, more annoyed than I should be, and he gives me one of his amused crooked smiles.

“I don’t need help. I’m an… Omega. I know how to do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” I snap. I fold my arms and he rolls his lips through his teeth like he’s holding in a laugh. “I’m still mixed up from the medication like you are and I think you owe me—”

“You think I owe you? I think I’ve been pretty patient and generous.”

Ben holds his tight smile but I can tell I struck a nerve. Right. Alpha. If I keep asserting things to him he’s just going to get more and more annoyed.

I try hunching my shoulders and wringing my hands, looking up at him through my lashes, and he tilts his head but doesn’t speak. This is fucking humiliating but I’m hellbent on wasting as much time as possible. Maybe immigration will come back with more questions and I’ll get lucky.

“Please?” I mumble in my best warbling Omega tone. I look at my hands. “It won’t feel right otherwise.”

Ben is quiet for a long minute and I’m afraid he’s going to say no. Then he sighs.

“Alright.” He runs a hand through his hair and motions to the closet at the other end of the room, then to the door. “Use the closet in the guest room. Less junk in it.”

I nod shyly and start around him but he grabs my arm and pulls me back. His lips are at my ear.

“I might get a little…” He clicks his tongue. “Impatient, while I’m waitin’. If I do… then I’m gonna need you to help me out, kitten. Alright?”

“But—aren’t we waiting?”

“I don’t think you need a nest to suck my cock.”

Oh _god_ , no. I nod woodenly and he lets go without another word but I pause in the hallway, heart pounding. Jesus Christ. I think giving him a blowjob might be worse than tolerating him fucking me.

I hear the floor creak. Ben stands in the bedroom doorway, leaning out and smiling expectantly.

I smile back before shuffling my way to the guest room—my bedroom. His eyes bore into the back of my head until I turn the corner.


	12. anhedonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dare i expand this fic??? i DARE
> 
> there is noncon here beware !!! i mean idk i assume that’s why ur all here but
> 
> also sorry i'm so slow lately--there are major riots in my area and my husband is still working outside the house through them and the rona so i've been extremely anxious

Whatever instinct that should be kicking in isn’t kicking in, so I’m at a loss when I get to my bedroom closet. It’s narrow and long; not a great place for two people to cram themselves into. I hover outside it and worry my lower lip through my teeth. Huh.

I’ve been taking suppressants for so long that it’s probably damaged those instincts that tell me how to make a nest. I figure I should pull out the shoes on the floor first so it’s not completely miserable to lay on, and I guess I’ll… throw some blankets and shit in there. It can’t be that complicated, right?

All the furniture and decorations Leia helped me pick out are exactly the way I left them. I haven’t been in my bedroom much, and pulling off my sheets and pillows is more emotional than I thought it would be. This was supposed to be my space; my stuff. Now I have to share it with Ben. I have to share _everything_ with Ben.

I peer over my shoulder more than once while I fill the closet with miscellaneous shit, ears pricked for creaking floorboards so I know to hide or pretend I’m sleeping. I’m half convinced I can keep making excuses and avoid the inevitable.

I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Bad things only happen in scary movies. As long as I keep busy and keep thinking ahead… I can avoid him.

My heart pounds so hard it feels like I’m choking. Fingers tremble, fretting over smoothing out the edges of blankets and fluffing pillows. Wasting time. I can tell him I’m exhausted after everything is set up and keep stringing him along. My skin _does_ hurt: cotton is scratchy on my palms and I pause a few times to flex my hands, wincing. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.

There’s a soft knock on the door. I stiffen, kneeling in the entrance to the closet, hands on my knees. I’ll be fine.

I look back and find him smiling at me. His raised hand slowly slips down to his pocket and he shrugs off the door, prowling closer. His hair is still damp.

“Been busy?” Ben drawls.

I nod. I’m frozen watching his meandering approach. His boots fall with heavy thuds across the floor. My fists clench on my knees.

He comes to stand beside me and peers into the dark, cramped closet. I stare straight ahead at the wall and bite my lower lip to keep it from quivering. I’ll be fine.

Ben sets a warm hand atop my head.

“Looks nice,” he says. “I got more blankets up in the attic if you want ‘em.”

“Yes,” I croak, hardly daring to breathe. He’s right next to me. He’s so _hot_. “Please, Alpha.”

He rumbles and runs his fingers through my hair. It’s appreciative—all Alphas like their egos stroked—and my chest flutters. It’s nice to be complimented.

“Good girl.” Fingers comb through my hair again gently from root to tip. He gently cups the side of my head and presses my temple against the side of his thigh, and I close my eyes. “Doin’ a good job.”

Ben lets me go and ambles back into the hallway with languid, loud steps of his boots. Once the sound fades and I hear the ladder to the attic open, I finally move, shivering and rubbing my upper arms. I’m all tingly from his touch and his voice.

I can’t just run out into the street in my state so I take the opportunity to search Ben’s bedroom for my suppressants while he’s up in the attic. My head swims as I pick through his dresser drawers, nauseated by all the dresses and lacy bras and panties that I’m sure will be imposed on me sooner or later. I’m already wearing a fucking dress. Like a doll.

But soon the ladder creaks and I have to hurry back to my bedroom. I crawl into the closet and lie down, trembling and closing my eyes, flinching when the ladder closes with a shriek. I’ll pretend I’m asleep.

Boots thud on the floor. He pauses at one point and the air conditioning picks up.

I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.

My heart skips a beat when I hear him come in the bedroom. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to twist my face to keep it covered, hoping he won’t be able to tell I’m awake; hoping he’ll just leave me alone.

But he won’t. As I lie there in terrified suspense awaiting the inevitable, I have to admit to myself that this is going to happen, and it brings tears to my eyes. Maybe it won’t be so bad. It’s not like he’s some hideous beast.

Something rustles. I’m tempted to look but I figure out after a couple seconds that he’s taking off his shoes, then he’s crawling into the closet on top of me and I roll on my stomach, tightening up like a dead spider. I bury my face in the pillows and dry heave on a strangled sob.

“Aww… it’s okay, kitten.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, caging his big body over mine. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Don’t cry.”

Ben uses his weight to pin me to the blankets. I struggle a little, pushing back into his groin and jerking forward when I feel him hard against me, but he follows, cooing and pawing my underwear down my hip. I turn my head to suck in a breath of stale air and he kisses the corner of my mouth.

“You can’t be a little girl forever, Rey,” he chastises in a murmur. I give another violent jerk and he shoves more of his weight against me, taking my breath. “I know—I know. Don’t be scared.”

“Stop,” I rasp, “ _stop_ —”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His hand must go to his belt because I hear a zipper. My eyes widen and I squirm forward, fisting the blankets as an anchor. Ben breathes in my ear and nuzzles into the crook of my neck, following my movements so I can’t get out from under him.

Warm skin brushes mine; the front of his thighs on the back of mine. I’m not sure if he bothered to take his shirt off but I think he’s hotter than normal through the thin fabric of my dress. He hikes it up past my hips, then runs his rough hand down my side to grasp my hip.

“Up, up,” he whispers in my hair. Tugs. “Arch up a little bit for me.” I shake my head and his voice drops. “Arch your back, Omega.”

I do it. Trembling, unable to stop myself, I arch my lower back into Ben’s groin, and his cock nudges between my legs. It’s hot and hard and feels bigger than I remember, but he just rubs it along my entrance, sucking in a sharp, guttural groan.

“Good girl.” He slaps my ass and I shy away, but he roughly yanks me back into place. “ _No_ —stay right there.”

It’s dark in the closet and the air gets thicker with pheromones and our heavy breaths. Ben holds my hip firm and keeps rutting against me for a handful of minutes until the head of his cock catches on my entrance, and he bears his weight on me.

I’m helpless and breathless, and he closes his other big hand over mine clenched in the blankets as he penetrates me. I can’t move at all. My toes dig into the cold floor of the closet obscured under the blankets, body tightening in fear. It’s a lot of pressure. I’m wet enough from the slick and I think heat makes it more comfortable, but he’s big, and I’m tense.

He strokes my thumb with his, answering my gasp with a strange low rumble in his chest. It only takes a slight thrust for him to be sheathed inside me, then he’s roughly fucking me into the blankets, panting in my ear. I can’t help but arch more to meet his aggressive thrusts, pressing back into his groin.

“That’s it—good girl.” The closet amplifies our breaths and the wet sound of our bodies coming together, and I shiver. “So tight—you’re gonna knot up nice for me, aren’t you?”

All I can manage is a pitiful whimper. It eggs him on, and I can’t help trying to keep time with his thrusts even though they’re fast and hard.

Ben leans back on his knees and holds my hips in both hands while he fucks me. I stay on the floor, arching my ass higher when he rubs my lower back with his thumb. I’m warbling desperately like a stray cat, beside myself. He’s just fucking me like a toy and something in me is worried he’s not going to help me get off before he does.

It’s obscene. Humiliating. I’m pleading before I can stop myself and only stop when he grabs the back of my neck. My stomach flutters.

“You’ve been misbehavin’,” he says gently. He’s still inside me but not moving, and I roll my hips. His fingers tighten around my neck. “But tell you what, kitten—if you take my knot like a good little Omega, we’ll see how I’m feelin’ later. How’s that?”

It’s swelling already: every time he moves it drags inside me and makes me squirm. I nod limply, eyes hooded and lips parted. I think I’m drooling.

He keeps me pinned by my neck as he resumes fucking me, and I’m so overcome that I don’t know how or what to feel. I lie there and gaze at the wall while Ben tries to stifle curses and smacks my ass when I try rolling my hips. I’m all tense and on edge and if I could just angle a little differently…

I whine, babbling and begging again without being consciously aware of it. I’m mortified but shutting my mouth is like trying to make my heart stop beating.

“Please, Alpha—please—please—”

I’m crying for some reason. Ben groans, hand sliding away from my neck and dipping between my thighs. I make an embarrassing excited chirp and buck eagerly against his thick fingers, climbing quickly toward climax. It’s a relief. I’m so tightly-wound and warm; so close to falling off the edge.

Ben slaps my ass. His breaths are uneven. “Love when you beg me—beg me more.”

I don’t, and his fingers slow on my clit. My face is smeared with tears and I bark my panic, frightened that he’s going to leave me teetering on the brink.

He circles my clit with his fingertip. I’m trembling and desperately fucking myself on his cock but he isn’t responding. His self control is fucking infuriating.

“Go on,” he says.

“Please,” I blurt, sniffling, “please let me… finish.”

“No.” He brushes the blunt edge of his nail around my clit and I shudder. “Go back to begging me to stop. I like that better.”

I’m not sure I heard him right. My spine prickles.

Ben wraps a hand around my neck again. “I like your little whimpers and squirmin’. Tryin’ to get away.” He starts fucking me, slower, huffing a pleased breath. “But you’re all mine, baby. All mine.”

I can’t bring myself to keep begging but it doesn’t really matter. He grunts and buries himself deep when he comes, and I can’t stop a surprised squeak at the sensation of the knot swelling just inside me. I feel his cock twitch and the warmth of his cum, his thighs brushing mine as he rhythmically pumps his hips, looming over me with his hand around my neck.

I wriggle desperately as soon as he stills, heart racing. He’s stuck inside me. I’m trapped. Pinned. He’s inside me. I’m trapped.

Ben buries his face in my hair, whispering. “Shh, shh—don’t struggle.” He inhales deep. “Just gonna get me hard as a fucking rock again if you struggle. Be a good girl and stay nice and still.”

I’m shaking in terror but manage to stop my weird urge to get the fuck away from him. Not weird—he just _raped me_ —but even the Omega in me is scared, and I don’t think she’s supposed to be scared.

Ben turns to his side so he’s lying behind me, tugging the knot in the process and making me whimper. He shushes me, adjusting my dress. He kisses my neck.

“Stay still, kitten,” he repeats, lips on my skin. His fingers drift down my hip. “If you don’t stay still, I’m going to fuck you again.”

Then his hand moves between my legs and I can’t stay still. I whine and hold his hand in place while I buck against his fingers, panting, half-crazed. Ben doesn’t try to stop me. His breath is on my ear.

“Can’t stay still, baby?” His tone is teasing but low and hungry and makes me shiver. “Not even for a couple minutes?”

I can’t. It’s unthinkable. I shake my head and he nods. His hips roll slowly.

“Naughty little Omega— _spoiled._ ” Ben’s breath hitches. “I’m gonna spoil you rotten.”

His hips jerk when I come, _finally_ , and it’s maybe the best thing I’ve ever felt but that’s probably the pheromones talking. I only manage a surprised moan and frantic breaths, then he’s grunting in my hair and twitching inside me. My gland aches. I vaguely wonder if he’s going to try biting me.

I’m trembling after, strangely cold even with Ben’s very hot body curled behind mine. He sucks his finger clean and pulls a blanket over us.

“Look how good you did,” he coos. His arm wraps around my middle and he heaves a contented sigh. “Stuffed nice and full now, though, huh? Fought me a little bit but most Omegas make a fuss the first couple times.” He hugs me closer and I wheeze. “But you can struggle anytime you want, kitten. You got a nice way of doin’ it.”

I’m too drowsy and sated to pay him much attention. My eyes flutter shut, and my racing thoughts slip into darkness.


	13. paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more pr0n

Everything is clean when I wake up in bed: I’m clean, the sheets are clean, and Ben isn’t around.

I’m handcuffed to the headboard by one wrist. The window is open over my head, screen vibrating from a hard rainfall that brings in the clean smell of wet dirt and fresh air. I twist over on my side and wince. It’s getting lighter out—bluish, like dawn. Must be early. 

My body aches like it used to after a long day of work but the steady throb between my legs is new. I’m clothed: absorbent panties and a blue dress because that’s what he likes me in the most.

Anxiety rises as I lift my head to look around the empty bedroom. He can’t be far. Even if I’m restrained, an Alpha doesn’t wander off and leave an Omega in heat. I think he gave me a bath after I fell asleep, and I’m afraid he did _more_ than give me a bath. Maybe that’s why I’m so sore.

He can’t be far. I curl into a ball, staring at the door, blood whooshing loudly in my ears. He’s close. I can smell it—I can feel it vibrate in my bones.

Footsteps echo in the hall. My hair stands on end and I squeeze my eyes shut, lower lip quivering. I’ll get a few more minutes if I pretend I’m asleep. Maybe he’ll leave me alone for the rest of the night.

The door creaks open. It’s quiet for a second, then Ben lumbers across the room to my bedside. I’m shaking. It’s obvious I’m awake.

“Brought you some water, kitten.”

Fingers brush my bare shoulder and I open one eye to look up at him and the cup of water in his hand. He sets it on the nightstand and crouches, frowning, one of those strange moments where I think he doesn’t mean what he’s doing to me. I don’t know if it’s an Alpha thing or if he’s just _that_ manipulative.

“Cold?” he asks. His warm hand closes around my upper arm. “I had to clean up your nest—but I put down some absorbent pads if you think you might be more comfortable there.”

I shake my head and he does the same thing. He pouts, brow furrowing.

“No? You want to stay in bed?” Ben kisses my forehead, mumbling against my skin. “We can do that, kitten. Why don’t you have somethin’ to drink?”

He stands and offers me the cup. I hesitate—it could be drugged—but I’m so thirsty that I kind of don’t care. Even if it _is_ drugged, at least I won’t remember what he does to me.

I manage to sit half upright and Ben holds the glass while I drink. It tastes okay as far as I can tell and I almost choke from drinking too fast. He sets it aside when I’m done and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. It’s a little better.

Ben isn’t wearing a shirt and his sweatpants hang low on his hips, low enough that I can almost see his dick. He combs his long fingers through my hair.

“Good Omega,” he praises in a soft, slightly condescending tone. His grip tightens in my hair. “My good little Omega with a soft, tight pussy.”

He pushes his pants down just far enough for his cock to come free and I jerk back. Ben clicks his tongue and shushes me, stroking his length an inch from my face. It’s already hard and the knot is slightly swollen at the base. I breathe hard through my nose. No. No.

The tip glistens in the dark, dripping precum that he swipes away with his a pass of his thumb. He rubs under the head and shudders, whispering and cooing and guiding it toward my mouth. I don’t want it in my mouth—I _really_ don’t want to suck his dick.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, “shh, shh. I washed up. Take it like a good girl for me, Rey.”

I shake my head so I don’t have to open my mouth. His cock brushes my upper lip, smearing sticky salty precum, and he teases the corner of my mouth with his thumb. No fucking way.

Ben lowers his voice; cold, commanding.

“Do what you’re told, Omega.”

My spine prickles and my lips part enough for Ben to guide the head of his cock along my tongue. It’s warm; soft and hard and slightly soapy from him washing it, and it eases toward the back of my throat. I recoil but he pushes down, bobbing his hips gently and stifling a strangled groan. My tongue unfurls along the underside of his cock and tears bead in my eyes. Well—I guess it could be worse.

“That’s good—that’s good.” Ben loosens his grip and smooths my hair back. His hooded dark eyes search my face and he smiles when I gag. “Little too much? You’ve got a small mouth, huh?”

He withdraws a bit, just to my lips. “Keep forgettin’ you’re not an experienced girl. Nice and sweet. Give me a kiss, sweet girl.” Trembling, I kiss the tip of his cock, and he laughs breathlessly. “Oh kitten—you’re so sweet. You’re so sweet.”

I’m cajoled into more kisses then he gently instructs me to suck the head along my tongue. Ben cups the back of my head but doesn’t push while I do it, groaning, hips rolling evenly while I noisily suck. My head spins. I’m dizzy, eyes fluttering.

He tilts my jaw so I look up into his eyes. My wrist hurts from the pressure of the cuff but I barely notice.

Ben’s throat bobs. “How about more kisses for me? I like the way you do that.”

I try it, sloppier now as I mouth wet kisses along his shaft. It’s warm and stiff under my tongue and I graze my teeth along the edge, not trying to bite but just to try it, and Ben shivers. He doesn’t stop me and I’m finding I don’t really _want_ to stop, so I suck, gaze roaming up to his face. Heat pools in my belly.

He licks his lips. They’re all red and swollen and his cheeks are flushed.

“You like how I taste?” Ben grasps his cock and prods the seam of my lips. I whimper. “Shh… shh. Just wanna feel that sweet mouth for a bit. Take it, kitten. Be a good girl.”

My jaw feels heavy as it opens and I struggle to suck him into my mouth. It’s sloppy and I vaguely think it must look gross and pathetic, but Ben just watches and makes soft sounds of praise. He holds my jaw while I suck in as much of him as I can with embarrassing wet squelches and whines.

I’m aware on whatever level of consciousness that I have left that he likes watching me struggle to suck his cock. My legs feel warm and heavy and I’m also aware that he probably drugged me. Doesn’t want his dick bitten off—not that I’m capable of it.

Ben groans, deep, hungry, lips parted. He rubs his thumb in smooth circles on my cheek so he can feel his cock pushing in and out. I still don’t have the whole thing in my mouth because it keeps touching the rear of my throat.

“Is that as much as you can take in your little mouth? All full?” I nod, pushing further and gagging. He laughs. “Don’t hurt yourself. We’ll get there. Kinda like watching you try—cute faces and sounds you make. Love those whimpers.”

His cock slips free and I’m rolled on my back. I don’t bother wiping off my mouth as Ben pulls off my panties and throws them aside. He climbs into bed between my knees, cock erect and glistening before he crawls up and I can’t see it anymore.

Hot skin presses to my dress and he kisses me hard, grabbing my jaw, slipping his other hand down between us. Blunt pressure pushes for a second and penetrates, thick and hot and hard. It doesn’t hurt but the shock makes me gasp and tighten my thighs around his hips. Oh—oh—I whimper.

Ben rolls my lip through his teeth, grunting. “That’s it—love those sweet little whimpers.” He shifts his hips and roughly fucks into me in long strokes. “Fuck, honey—got a big knot for you. Nice and big.”

It stimulates just inside me in a very strange way, and I’m coming before I realize it, like it’s being pried out of me. My nails dig into Ben’s broad back, muscles shifting under my palms, and he grits out a sharp curse while I buck underneath him. I can’t resist: I’m fucking myself down to the knot and it twitches and I grind on it, whining because he likes when I beg.

The handcuff jangles on my wrist, breaths mingled before Ben kisses me roughly again. He threads his long fingers in my hair and gazes down at me, panting, eyes rolling. A quick shiver of pleasure comes. I don’t know why. I’m definitely on drugs.

“F-fuck—” Ben takes a shuddering breath, then he seizes my jaw, fingertips digging in. “You want my knot? Want me to fill you up?”

I nod but he squeezes harder. “Y-yes. Yes.”

He slows, jerking my jaw so he can snap in my ear. My hands shake violently on his shoulder blades.

“Are you a filthy slut, Rey? Want me to fuck you like a filthy slut?”

“No—no, no—”

“Then don’t beg for my knot like a filthy slut or I’m going to fuck your ass instead.”

Holy shit—holy shit. I’m semi-conscious but absolutely fucking terrified by his mood swing and the angry, accusatory edge in his voice. What the fuck—he can’t do that. I think he’ll _really_ hurt me.

Ben pushes his nose against the side of my head, breathing hard. His hips slow and he swallows, and I’m struggling not to cry. I don’t get it. I don’t get what he wants from me.

Tears come. I choke on a sob before I sniffle it back but another comes right after.

He exhales. “Shh… shh… it’s okay, kitten. I’m sorry.” His hand slips away from my jaw and slides down my arm. “I know. You’re a good girl. Good Omega.”

But my crying doesn’t seem to kill the mood. Ben resumes gently fucking me and whispering that I’m a nice, sweet girl and all kinds of other bizarre shit that goes in one ear and out the other. He laughs a little when I twist away from his kiss and follows, growling, smacking kisses up my neck. I can only manage panicked stifled sobs, staring over his shoulder at the ceiling. His knot thickens.

“Good Omega,” he breathes in my ear.

It takes on the upstroke and I’m stretched and taken. I wince, squirming and yelping, but Ben bites the crook of my shoulder and gives a low growl to stop me. His hips stutter, pumping slow and rhythmic, cock twitching inside me as I’m fucked and filled the way God and nature intended.

He huffs on my neck when he’s through, satisfied. I flinch when he nuzzles me, purring, looking for affection I don’t have to give him.

We turn on our sides, Ben languidly kissing my neck. His hand wanders up the back of my dress.

“I’m gonna dream about those big beautiful eyes lookin’ up at me every time I go to sleep,” he mumbles. His nails run lightly across my spine. “Just me and my good girl.”

He dozes off tucked under my chin. Sleep doesn’t come so easily to me.


	14. complicit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someday I’ll actually advance the plot

I’m not sure what time it is when I wake up. Noon, maybe. I guess it doesn’t really matter.

Ben gets me up and out of bed. I’m showered and put in a thin sleeveless blue dress that drapes just past my knees. I tremble during the whole process, gazing off into the distance while he goes on and on with his compliments. I’m not sure when my heat cycle is supposed to end. I hope it’s soon.

He settles me on the couch under two blankets and turns on the TV. Cartoons.

“Want somethin’ in particular?” Ben asks, tucking the blanket in around my neck. “I was gonna make breakfast for lunch but whatever you want is fine with me, kitten.”

I shrug limply. Colorful characters zigzag across the TV screen and I find it easy to zone out. I’m exhausted. Sore. Feel fluish.

Ben looks back at the TV and laughs, raising his eyebrows and giving me a weird, condescending smile. “You like that, huh?”

I don’t respond. I glare as best I can.

He kisses my forehead. I shrink back, grimacing, but can’t escape the unwanted affection. I glower at his retreating form when he walks out to the kitchen. I’m not even hungry. I’d rather starve.

Ben whistles while he cooks. Smells waft out to the living room—cheese and spices and faint acrid smoke. Sometimes my gaze wanders to the front door but I figure there’s no point in running right now. I’ve been over this a thousand times. I can’t just run.

…Or maybe I can. Anything is better than being trapped here for the rest of my life.

I slowly lift my head to peer into the kitchen. Ben shuffles to the stove, back facing me, and shuffles out of sight again. If I move slow and quiet… maybe I’ll have a chance of slipping out without being noticed.

Maybe not. He’ll be pissed if he catches me and I’ll be in deep shit. But if he doesn’t—if he doesn’t—

Heart fluttering, I wait until he disappears before pushing myself upright on the couch. Voices carry from the cartoon and something crackles on the stove but the house is otherwise quiet. Any off steps and he’ll hear me; he’ll come running. He’ll catch me, too.

But I could get away. This could be my chance. Should I really sit here and keep biding time and waiting for something better to come?

I swallow, peeling my eyes away for a second to swing my legs quietly over the edge of the couch. My bare feet press on the cool wooden floor and I roll my lips, breathing in before risking a glance to the kitchen.

Ben is staring at me.

Cold jabs through my throat. He’s looming in the doorframe and I’m so startled that I jump and let out a frightened squeak. Holy _fuck_ —how does he move like that? He’s gigantic; he should be the loudest fucking thing in the house.

His arms are folded over his chest, jaw tight. He smiles anyway: that cold, smug, eerie smile when he catches me doing something I shouldn’t be doing.

“Need somethin’?” he asks.

I stare, speechless for a minute. Oh god. I need a good excuse or I’m going to be punished.

“…Back hurts,” I rasp, grimacing to back up my lie. “I just needed to sit up.”

“Huh.” Ben furrows his brow and his tongue roams in his cheek. He’s still smirking. “Am I bein’ a little too rough with you, honey? You all banged up?”

I’m sure the right response is ‘no, I love being thrown around like a ragdoll,’ but I see a glimmer of a hope that maybe my time here can be more tolerable. He keeps staring at me, expression imploring, so I hesitantly shrug my shoulders. Fine. Yes.

Ben seems to tense in the shoulders. His gaze wanders down to the floor but he doesn’t move or speak for a handful of minutes. The cartoon plays and the food cooks.

“You wanna _enlighten_ me?”

His voice has the same edge it did this morning. It makes me squirm; makes me uncomfortable down to my bones. I avoid his eyes and shake my head.

Ben laughs. “C’mon, kitten. C’mon.” He clicks his tongue rapidly and I hear footsteps. “C’mon. Give me a little constructive criticism.”

I shift over when he sits beside me on the couch, still keeping my eyes down because something tells me I should. Ben puts an arm over the back of the couch and leans in close to my face. It’s intrusive and nerve-wracking and I shy away.

He claps a big hand over my knee. “No need to be shy about it. Don’t gotta be coy.” His fingers squeeze. “What d’you think it was, huh?”

“Nothing,” I mutter. “It’s fine. I probably slept weird.”

“C’mon—go ahead.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Rey,” he laughs, though it’s tense. “I really need you to tell me where I’m bein’ too rough with you.”

“You’re not, I just—”

Ben seizes my jaw, twisting so I’m forced to look at him. My chest tingles with anxiety and I swallow hard past his tight grip. He’s smiling. Makes it worse.

“How about you just lie down and be quiet?” he murmurs. His dark eyes search mine. “You’ve been such a good girl today—nice and quiet and obedient. We don’t want to ruin that, do we?”

I shake my head and so does he. Ben leans in to kiss my forehead and the tip of my nose, then he reclines back with his legs spread. He pulls me closer to his ribs, big hand splaying on my upper arm. I’m hyperaware of it; of how strong he is. Don’t need the reminder.

He pats my bicep. “I can always give you more medicine for the nerves, kitten. Just say the word.”

I tense. Medicine? What medicine?

“Medicine?” I croak.

“You were really tight the first time—felt great but definitely too tense. Loosened right up last night, though. Nice and soft.”

“What do you mean?” My voice rises a pitch. “Did you drug me?”

“Just making things easier.”

I _knew_ it but it still makes me nauseous to hear him admit it. He could’ve drugged my lunch, too—everything he gives me could be laced so I’ll be more compliant. Jesus. What the fuck.

His strange violent mood swing and casual mention of drugging me into submission has me spinning. We watch the cartoon in silence for a while and Ben doesn’t say another word. Is he mad at me? Am I in trouble? Does he know I was trying to escape—is he mad I admitted he’s been rough?

Fear oozes down my nape, icy and raw. What the fuck is wrong with him, anyway? Alpha are not, he’s fucking terrifying. Certifiable. I’m not entirely confident he won’t kill me.

Ben rests his cheek on top of my head, sighing. His thumb rubs my bare upper arm.

“Y’know…” His embrace tightens. “Mama told me you were off-limits at first. She really likes you.”

I don’t respond. Leia betrayed me—like I care about what she thinks of me anymore.

Ben is likewise quiet for a couple minutes. We watch television and the sun gradually sinks on the horizon, spilling warm orange and pink through the living room windows. I’m freezing. Must be anxiety.

“She’d send me the scraps, though,” he continues like he never stopped the thought. “All the ones she didn’t want; didn’t like, good for keepin’ the edge off. She sold them off eventually but kept you set aside like the prized virgin bitch in the litter.”

My lower eyelid twitches. I grit my teeth as Ben laughs lightly to himself, sliding a hand over my thigh. It wanders up my dress.

“But she came around,” he says. “I needed something permanent for my parole—just so they know I’ve got a woman to take the edge off during rut. She decided she didn’t want me knocking up just _any_ girl with her grandbabies.”

I jerk my leg away but he grabs it. I try again, yanking harder this time, scrambling away for the edge of the couch. Ben follows, then he’s on top of me and I’m wedged into the edge of the couch, flailing and shrieking under his suffocating weight. It groans across the floor while I beat on his broad back struggling to escape.

He buries his face in my neck when I try scratching at it to shove him off, one arm twisted up behind my shoulder so I can’t get away. The other works between us, first at his belt then yanking down my panties just as far as he needs them. His breath is hot and he laughs when I scream again.

“Rey, baby— _relax._ Relax.” Wet kisses roam up my throat and he groans when I twist my hips away from his. “Come on, baby—shh, shh. What’s all this hysteria for, huh? Don’t I always make you feel good, kitten?” He lowers his voice, ignoring my kicking legs around his hips. “Don’t I always make you come?”

“Get _away_ from me! Get away—!”

My thigh is pinned between his hip and the couch but I use my free leg to push on the floor, hoping for leverage. Ben grabs my leg and holds firm, and no matter how much I struggle and thrash he doesn’t move an inch. He tugs my knee over his hip.

His length pushes between my legs, the head stroking up through my folds. I swallow, twisting my neck and shaking my head. No. No.

“Shh. Shh. Relax, baby. Just relax.” His hand slides off my thigh and between his legs. I jerk but can’t move him. “It’s just sex. Relax and enjoy it.”

It flits through my mind as Ben gently, but firmly, forces his cock inside me that maybe I _should_ just relax. It’s just sex. It’s not like he’s killing me or cutting my fingers off and feeding them to me. He’s not some diseased beast. Wouldn’t it be easier to be quiet and compliant? It’s just sex.

He sinks in with two deep thrusts helped along by my slick. I swallow, stifling a heavy breath, nails digging into his back. Pressure, like always. There’s that satisfying feeling of being full and the nagging terror that I’m going to do something wrong. He smells nice. He mouths at my shoulder, hips rolling slowly.

“Got any feedback?” Ben asks, slightly breathless. I shake my head quickly and he purrs. My heart skips a beat. “Good girl.”

The couch creaks rhythmically and mingles with the soft background noise of the cartoon. Ben doesn’t bother suppressing any of his groans and mumbles about how tight or soft or wet I am but I find it easy enough to tune out, even though it’s right in my ear. _You feel so good, baby_. _So wet—so tight—_

I’m checked out until he kisses me, cradling my face in one hand like he’s not raping me on his couch. Maybe it’ll be easier if I don’t think of it that way. I _am_ an Omega and he _is_ an Alpha. Without the trimmings of social grace and mortality, this is technically normal. Ben is an Alpha through and through and I am slowly but surely slipping into my Omega skin I’ve tried for so long to shed.

So I don’t bite his tongue or cry or try to kick him off. Ben kisses the corner of my mouth and nuzzles my temple while he fucks me, heavy and inevitable but not violent, and I lie there quietly, waiting to be filled. His knot swells bit by bit, dragging along my walls, twitching as his breathing picks up.

“ _God_ that feels good,” he grunts. His hips still on the next thrust, pushing in as deep as he can. “Can’t wait you show you off to our neighbors—especially once I’ve got a baby in you.”

I shudder a little at the thought of that but Ben doesn’t taunt me like he did this morning. He kisses me when I come, whimpering in his mouth and bucking against him, then the knot takes. He just exhales, breath shaky and lifting into a soft groan. His cock throbs and spills and I’m filled while he gently sucks my lower lip between his teeth.

 _Filled_. Such a weird word for it, but I don’t think there’s anything more accurate. It’s an odd sensation being pumped full of cum like a waiting vessel—like it’s my only purpose. Maybe it is.

Ben shifts his weight but only enough to keep from crushing me into the couch. I’m nestled under his chin. His heart thuds loud and fast.

“How was that?” he asks, voice rough. “Nice and gentle?”

I nod once. Wasn’t intolerable but my emotions are chaotic, dancing between fear and revulsion and calm contentedness like they’ve been prone to lately.

Ben pulls a blanket over us and hugs me close to his warm chest. We lie there quietly tangled and tethered in the drowsy late afternoon sun.


	15. wretched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gasp

Around dinnertime Ben brings me out to sit on the front porch. It’s a quiet evening, sun slatting through the trees and drenching the gravel driveway in hues of pink and purple. Humidity hangs thick in the air with the buzz of cicadas and crickets.

I’m settled in a white rocking chair, wearing a thin pink dress and my heat panties. Ben sits beside me in his own chair and lights a cigarette, squinting out across his lawn. It smells like fresh-cut grass and rain. I take a deep breath before the cigarette smoke muddies the air.

He exhales smoke, shifting. His chair creaks.

“Your cycle should be just about over,” Ben says. “Gonna have some people over for dinner tomorrow, I think. Couple neighbors. Sheriff.”

I nod. I’m still reeling from this afternoon. He made dinner and we watched TV like nothing happened. Am I supposed to pretend nothing is happening forever?

Ben takes another drag and glances at me. I’m considering running right now: leaping over the porch and making a mad dash for the woods. My heat is almost over so I won’t be as vulnerable. I just have to outrun Ben. I think I can.

“What’s the problem, Rey?”

I don’t look at him. _What’s the problem?_ Where do I begin?

Ben reaches over the small table between us to take my hand, rubbing his thumb on my pinkie. My eye twitches but I don’t respond.

“Somebody was gonna take you sooner or later,” he says. “Even if you got full citizenship—you know they just use that to keep track of y’all, right?”

“No they _don’t_ ,” I retort, seething. I rip my hand away. “I was on track to… to independence and freedom before you ruined my fucking life.”

“C’mon Rey. Nobody lets Omegas run around like that.”

“Fuck you.”

It slips out before I can stop it. Fear tightens my throat—he hates when I curse—but to my surprise, Ben just leans back in his chair and takes another drag of his cigarette.

He rocks quietly for a while and we watch the sun slowly setting behind the trees. I keep my arms crossed, tears burning my eyes. That’s bullshit. I was _this close_ to freedom; real freedom, and he and Leia ruined it for me. Europe is where Omegas are tracked and ‘contained.’ Here it’s different. Everyone says it’s different. That’s why they have work visas here.

I decide to head off his anger. No point in dealing with it tonight.

“…Sorry I swore,” I mutter.

“S’alright, kitten.” Ben flicks ashes in a small bowl on the table. “Wish Leia had been a little more realistic with you. But I think she wasn’t plannin’ on selling you off. Really likes you.”

“Yeah, well—” I gesture vaguely to the general situation I’m in. “Apparently not.”

He laughs a little and shakes his head. I’m pushing it. I know I’m pushing it. I should double back.

“Could be worse,” I add hastily. “You can cook. And you’ve only been to prison once.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” His eyes narrow as he blows out another stream of smoke, scanning his property. “Did ten years. Guess most Alphas do a couple here or there.”

We lapse into silence. Bats flit past the porch and a couple birds make their last calls for the night. There’s a bit of a chill in the air and I shiver.

“Snoke and me go way back, y’know.”

“You do?” I reply in the most disinterested tone I can muster.

Ben’s chair creaks. He’s repositioning, suddenly uncomfortable even though it’s hard to read his face. He nods and I frown at his expression. Weird.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. He raises his eyebrows as he draws from his cigarette. “Got thrown in prison ‘cause of him.”

“…Oh.” I purse my lips. “And you’re still friends?”

He nods but he’s a million miles away, I think. His chair rocks a little faster, eyes narrowing and widening, replaying a memory. I’m confused. Isn’t he friends with this guy? He’s coming over for our extremely uncomfortable dinner party.

“Was a pretty angry kid,” Ben mutters. He shakes his head, staring into the distance. “Not much has changed, I guess.”

That’s an understatement. I watch him, uneasy, and he blinks like he’s waking up from a daydream, then breaks into a slim smile. He puts his cigarette out in the ash tray and laughs as he looks at me. I smile nervously. Okay. That was weird.

“Come on, kitten.” Ben pats the table as he stands. “I’m gonna give you a nice warm bath before bed.”

—•—

My heat cycle is over when I wake up the following morning: cramps gone, vague anxiety faded away, slick no longer sticking to my inner thighs. Finally.

I close my eyes and exhale. Most heat cycles come once a month but mine are bound to be messed up and unpredictable after so many years on suppressants. I’m a ticking time bomb. I have to get out of here before the next one starts and it’s too dangerous to leave.

And before Ben claims me. After that, there really is no escape.

The mattress moves. A warm hand glides across my belly, and I grimace at a soft kiss in the crook of my neck. Ben inhales as he shifts closer until his cock pushes against my hip, hard and hot. I’m not going to bother resisting him, even though I’m already nauseous with fear. I’ll just be quiet. Endure.

His lips graze my throat, fingers hooking over the hem of my panties to pull them down my hips. He leans down to take them off at my ankles and drops them to the floor as he shifts on top of me in one fluid motion, warm skin brushing mine. I swallow hard, thighs trembling around his hips. He’s warm. He smells like his shampoo; spicy and masculine. 

I’m pinned to the mattress by Ben’s weight, blissfully unable to do anything but lie still and take it. He nudges my jaw, teeth on my throat, tugging and sucking and rolling my skin through his mouth. He doesn’t bother using his fingers: I feel the hem of his briefs drag down my inner thigh then the hard, insistent head of his cock. It makes my pulse race.

He strokes through my folds for a handful of minutes, kisses trailing off into low groans. I’m not as wet now—no more slick—but it doesn’t hurt when he pushes in an inch and eases out again, slowly rubbing, lingering around my clit.

Ben eases inside me on his next experimental push, and I stiffen because he feels bigger than he did when I was in heat. Muscles tighten, squeezing his length; his cock twitches as he slides home, groin pressed to mine. I’m very much feeling like I’ve been skewered. My heart flutters in my throat.

He exhales, pausing, then takes another languid deep breath and exhales again. I swallow the lump in my throat, wincing at the stretch of him inside me.

A long minute passes. Ben lies there, almost motionless on top of me, mouth trailing lazy kisses down the arch of my throat. He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning and I’m unsettled by it. What’s wrong with him? Is he having a hormonal shift, too?

“Shrink in prison told me to slow down.” His voice is raspy with sleep, low and vulnerable. He presses his forehead to my temple as he slowly withdraws, licking his lips. “ _Enjoy_ things—instead of rushing through it all.” I bite my lip but a breathy gasp still comes out as Ben gently eases inside me again, stretching, filling. It makes my thighs tighten around his hips. “But I don’t think I can.”

I’m processing his words, staring over his shoulder at the ceiling when the doorbell rings.

Ben lifts his head. He doesn’t move for a minute, listening, and resumes kissing me when there isn’t another peal from the doorbell. He’s slowly rolling his hips when it rings again, and this time he growls.

“What the fuck?” He reaches for the alarm clock on the nightstand, kissing a line up my shoulder in the process. “Six AM—who the hell—?”

He slams the alarm clock down and I wince as his cock withdraws from my body. Ben snatches a pair of sweatpants off the chest at the end of the bed and forgoes a shirt. He’s scowling, mouth twisted into an angry tight line; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so genuinely pissed off.

The door slams against the wall on his way out. His steps proceed down the creaky stairs and I hope for a minute that it’s immigration coming back to check on us. Please take me to jail, immigration.

The door opens. It’s a polite, terse greeting, I think, so I assume it isn’t immigration—Ben would turn the charm on for them. The door shuts and I sit up a bit, adjusting my dress, chain clinking. I’m sure he won’t let anyone come upstairs and see me, but… just in case.

A handful of minutes pass. Ben seems to be talking to a man and I presently hear footsteps on the stairs. Weird. He was very adamant about no one seeing me in heat and how it was ‘improper.’ Does he really want someone seeing me half naked?

“Is she just through here, then?”

I stiffen at the unfamiliar voice. Before I can react, the bedroom door slowly pushes open, creaking on the hinges, and I’m face-to-face with a strange man.

It’s immediately obvious that he’s a police officer. His uniform is brown and he’s wearing a hat and has a _gun_ , which makes me a little anxious. His face is contorted and scarred and he has thin lips that give him a reptilian smile, and I’m instantly afraid of him. This must be the sheriff. Snoke, I think.

His beady eyes study me. I shrink down, relieved I covered up with the sheet, and he sets his hands on his hips.

“Hello there,” he coos. Northern accent, nothing like Ben’s. “You must be Rey.”

I don’t respond. My eyes flicker to Ben as he walks into the room, clearly uncomfortable and irritated by the intrusion. He rubs his nose and crosses his arms and glances at Snoke.

“She’s tired,” Ben says. “Just finished her cycle.”

Snoke meanders toward me and rubs his sloping jaw—and I see, of all things, a registration bracelet on his thin wrist. An Omega cop? A _male_ Omega? Who is this guy? Why is Ben friends with him?

He sits on the edge of the bed near my feet and I have no qualms about quickly withdrawing my legs. Snoke smiles plainly, scrutinizing me, hands in his lap.

“Narrow hips,” he calls to Ben, still staring at me. “Scrawny. She won’t whelp well.”

 _Scrawny_? I’m not _scrawny_. I scowl as Snoke looks back at Ben, who shrugs.

“I dunno,” Ben replies. “I kinda like her.”

“She’s just another woman, Kylo. No need to get attached.”

Kylo? Who is Kylo? Is Ben Kylo? Am I missing something? I feel like I’m missing something.

Ben nods, squeezing his biceps as he averts his eyes to the far wall. My scowl loosens to a frown but I get agitated all over again when Snoke clicks his tongue at me, pursing his lips.

“Well I suppose she’s going to be dead sooner or later,” he muses. “At least keep this one alive long enough to give us a pup—then let her have at the knives and rope.”

He stands, and I blanch. What?

Ben coughs and looks down at his feet as Snoke makes his way back to the bedroom door. I’m confused—give _us_ a pup? Knives and rope? What does that mean?

“Y’know, uh…” Ben shrugs. “I’ve got to claim her—to stay out of prison? And, uh… it’s gonna hurt pretty bad if something happens to her. I kinda like her.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Well I was talkin’ to the shrink in prison and he thought a little different. He said if it happens again I’m gonna be—”

“I know you better than anyone else, dear. Don’t you trust me?”

 _Dear_? My mind races to the next odd slip, confusion brewing into terror. What the hell is going on?

Ben clenches his jaw and doesn’t respond, but gives a subtle nod. Snoke smiles, reaching out to brush Ben’s jaw with his spindly fingertips.

“I’m the only one you need,” Snoke coos. “Aren’t I?” Ben nods but his gaze wanders. He’s hunched like he’s trying to disappear. “Good.” Snoke gestures dismissively in my direction. “Carry on, then. The sooner you impregnate her, the sooner she can be disposed of.”

He walks out the bedroom door.

I look at Ben, heart pounding, eyes wide. His jaw tightens when he meets my gaze but he doesn’t reply. He follows Snoke, arms still folded, and I’m left reeling with my thoughts. What the _fuck_?


	16. twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicide mention
> 
> Heyooo so i got my gallbladder removed Monday hence no updates 
> 
> also this is short 
> 
> also sorry it took two months I’m also starting skewl again and I’m busy busy

Nothing is said about Snoke when Ben comes back to bathe and dress me. He’s quiet and stony-faced as he guides me to the bathroom and back to the bedroom. I _know_ I shouldn’t pry. I’ll make him angry.

But I kind of have to, because they were discussing using me like a breeding machine and killing me after they get what they want. That’s an issue. And from what Ben said, it sounds like he’s done this before. Did she have any kids? Did he kill her because she couldn’t?

I wait until we’re seated and eating breakfast. Cereal today.

Ben doesn’t look at me while he eats. It’s quiet in the house, silence settling in the uncomfortable space Snoke’s visit left behind. I stare at Ben.

“…Are you going to kill me?”

His dark eyes flicker to mine and he raises his eyebrows. He’s chewing, and he finishes before he speaks, thankfully shaking his head.

His scowl turns into a smile and he laughs. “No—I ain’t gonna kill you, kitten.”

“Well your _friend_ said—”

“He says a lot of things,” Ben interrupts. His tongue rolls in his cheek and he takes a sip of his coffee. His smile is gone. “He told me to take Penelope first time around and when she got into the knives, I got sent to prison. Not doin’ that again.”

“Who is that?” I ask. 

Ben huffs and waves me off. His shoulders are tight and he obviously doesn’t like the conversation but I want to know who Penelope is and what he means by ‘she got into the knives.’ He eats a spoonful of cereal, speaking after he swallows, agitated.

“Not goin’ through that again,” he mutters, shaking his head. His hand trembles on his spoon.

I’m not going to get any more answers. I lower my gaze to my cereal and take a bite.

Ben spends most of the day getting the house cleaned up while I’m parked on the couch watching television. He’s been working on and off: there’s still some work to be done on the downstairs bathroom and dining room, and the floors are torn up and dangerous to walk on. I watch him move his supplies and think of how I’m going to figure out who Penelope is.

Doesn’t matter, really. He’s a psychopath, and there’s no getting through to him. There’s no humanity for me to appeal to.

We eat lunch: salads with chicken and cranberries and nuts, which is a surprisingly healthy option. Our forks scrape and our greens crunch and neither of us says a word. The elephant in the room is _enormous_ and it’s the first hint of Ben’s life I’ve ever gotten. He hides it from me—he hides it really well.

I glance at him. His dark eyes are distant and he’s chewing slowly, staring at his bowl.

“Do you need help with anything?” I ask. My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “Any cleaning?”

He blinks like he’s rebooting. Ben shakes his head and swallows his food before he speaks.

“It’s all done,” he says. “Gonna grill out back so I’ll get that together soon.”

“Can I help?”

He laughs. I raise my eyebrows and he rubs his jaw. I can’t just waltz out of here. I’m not much of a manipulator, but I think it’s my only escape. If I can put him at ease and make him think I won’t try to escape—at some point I might be able to.

Snoke’s visit has Ben unsettled for some reason. I’m hopeful that I’ve found a crack in his façade.

“I can help,” I insist.

“Why? You think I’m gonna kill you if you don’t help out?”

He stares at me and takes a sip of his water. I stare back and don’t say anything. Of course I do. He and Snoke were talking about murdering me this morning.

Ben rolls his eyes. He sets his glass down and leans back in his chair, folding his thick arms.

“I told you already—”

“We were having a nice morning,” I interrupt. _Nice_. Sort of. “Then he comes in and starts talking and you won’t explain anything to me.”

“I don’t have to explain anythin’ to you.”

I grit my teeth. God that’s so fucking infuriating. His way or the highway, and he’s never wrong. I wonder where he got this awful misogynistic streak from—is it all Alphas, or did he learn it from someone? Maybe his dad, but Leia always spoke fondly of Han.

I lower my gaze, nodding, and poke at my salad. How am I going to work this?

“You’re right,” I acquiesce. “I just… wish you would open up to me more.”

I’m afraid to look up. Ben doesn’t respond for a full minute and I take a bite of my salad.

“Do you?” he asks.

I shrug, avoiding his eyes. “You seem lonely.”

“Lonely? Me?”

“I’m an Omega; I know these things.”

Ben laughs. When I risk a peek I’m relieved to see him smiling at me, tapping his fingers on his bicep. He doesn’t seem mad like he was with my little ‘please be gentle during sex’ misstep. Very fragile ego, but if I tread softly maybe I can convince him to confide in me.

I spear another piece of romaine. “Isn’t that what Omegas are for?”

“In theory, I guess. In practice—no.”

“Why not?”

“Y’all are sensitive. I wouldn’t want to burden my Omega with things she doesn’t need to worry about.”

“That’s noble, but it’s not fair to you.”

Ben raises his eyebrows. I’m almost done with my salad and he adds more to my bowl, then pushes it back and doesn’t say anything. I eat. All the anxiety is making me extra hungry.

He scratches his jaw. “Maybe not, but it’s the way things gotta be.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Stressed Omegas don’t get pregnant. Slick gets runny, too.”

I nod. Can’t just come out and say it—I have to let him reach decisions and think he did it on his own.

He’s quiet for a bit. I eat my salad and hope he’s following the trajectory I planned.

“…But I guess if me keepin’ quiet stresses you out, that’s not good.”

I don’t answer. I don’t even nod.

Ben sighs and rubs the back of his head. He pushes away from the table and goes to the sliding door to look out at the backyard. I watch his back and wait as patiently as I can. Come on. Come on.

He clicks his tongue a couple times, slipping his hands in his pockets. Sunlight illuminates the edges of his black hair.

“Well—” He shrugs. “I went to prison for mating Penny against her will. Laws are different up north, and I got ten years for that.”

I pause my chewing.

“I really liked her.” Ben glances over his shoulder at me, smiling faintly. “Never thought I’d be that Alpha, and we were real young. But Snoke got it in my head that somebody else would take her if I didn’t, and she’d make good breeding stock.”

He studies me. I don’t respond, and Ben turns to look out the sliding door again.

“Thought she’d settle,” he says. “I felt bad takin’ her like that but I promised her parents I’d take good care of her.”

“What happened?”

He looks up toward a tree.

“Killed herself six months into my sentence.”

It comes out casually: _killed herself_ , like it’s normal. My appetite ices over and I just stare at the back of Ben’s head, floored, nauseated, horrified. The poor woman committed suicide to get away from him—the same thing I’ve been contemplating on the particularly dark days.

And they were mates. Lots of mated pairs die when their partner dies. I’m not sure how he survived.

Ben looks back at me. I realize I should say something—like, right now.

“I’m sorry that happened,” I croak.

“Yeah. Penny was a nice girl and had a nice family.”

He meanders toward me, hands still in his pockets, smiling. I try to smile back and lower my eyes when he comes to stop beside me.

Ben combs his thick fingers through my hair.

“But that’s alright,” he murmurs. He gathers my hair in his fist and curls it around his knuckles, lightly pulling. “I’ve got you now, kitten. Since I’ve got a dead mate I have to find a new one—they think I’ll go crazy without one—and I’ve got you.”

He pulls a little harder, tilting my head back. My lips quiver when he leans over to kiss me.

“Y’know what?” he whispers. He kisses me again. “I think openin’ up was a good idea.”

His grip loosens. I’m given another kiss on top of my head before Ben goes to the fridge.

I’m too shocked and nauseated to finish my lunch. He brings me upstairs so I can lie down, chained to the bed, but I just lie there wide awake instead.

I have to know these things—it’s the only way to figure out how to get under his skin. But I wish I didn’t know these things.


End file.
